Soul Mates
by fyd818
Summary: There are many people he’d die for in a heartbeat. But there’s only one person he’d live for. RononTeyla AU
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own "Stargate: Atlantis" and don't claim to. (If I did, Teyla and Ronon would be happily married with half-a-dozen kids by now.) I am making no monetary gain from this, it is meant for entertainment purposes only.

Summary: There are many people he'd die for in a heartbeat. But there's only one person he'd live for. RononTeyla

Rating: T

Warnings: Fluff, violence

Pairing: Ronon/Teyla

Title: _Soul Mates_

Author: fyd818

Part 1/40

Author's note: I have always seen the characters of Ronon and Teyla as soul mates, they are so _perfect_ for each other. I've always wanted to do a fic that solely reflects that bond. I very much hope you enjoy this fic, and thank you for reading!

"**Soul Mates"**

_fyd818_

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If I embrace her and her arms are open,

_I am like a man in the land of perfumes._

_If I kiss her and her lips are open,_

_I am drunk even without beer._

–Egyptian love poem

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**-Prologue-**

It was a Friday, and he was cleaning out his mother's attic, when he found it.

Michaela Dex had accumulated quite a collection of baubles in her lifetime. Exotic things from other worlds, other cultures. Most had been brought back by her husband and son, during their travels off-world with the Satedan military. But some she'd gathered herself – and this small, curious box seemed to be one of them.

Ronon balanced the intricately carved vessel in his hands, weighing it even as he examined it. Beneath layers of dust, the wood glowed a pretty red, and the designs spoke of some exotic far-off world. He couldn't remember ever seeing the box as a child, and Michaela had not left Sateda in her declining years after her husband died and her son moved to a home of his own. The design and the writing on the box was foreign, and he wondered where – and more importantly, _when_ – his mother had collected such an item.

Ronon dusted off the closest wooden crate with a sweep of his hand and perched on it. He set the box in his lap and stared at the lid, wondering if anything would jump out at him when he opened it. He wasn't a superstitious person, but he'd had his share of chills in this dark, dirty place while cleaning out his mother's things. Michaela had been a – commanding and independent woman.

_You're being foolish, Ronon. It's a box, probably a good thirty years old. Just open it._ He carefully hooked his fingers under the edge, lifted, and hesitantly peered inside.

A small, wrapped bundle sat in the exact center of the box. It looked innocuous, though the fabric had faded and turned brittle over the years. He was almost sure it had been white, at one time, though he couldn't be sure. He carefully reached his long fingers into the box and gently picked up the object (objects?). He cradled it (them?) in both hands as soon as it was clear of the box and stared for a moment.

Again, that superstitious chill. What was the matter with him today?

At last he gathered enough courage to himself to gently turn the bundle over and unfold the cloth. It all but disintegrated at his touch, but as the pieces fell away the dim light of the naked overhead bulb flashed off the object that had been wrapped.

A necklace, formed as a half-circle with a point jutting out in the center, glittered up at him. Along the edge, more of that strange writing dared him to read it, but he couldn't. He didn't recognize the language, not even a few of the letters. It was obvious the necklace had been made to be broken into two halves. The question that nagged at Ronon's mind was, where was the other half?

He turned the pendant a little more toward the light, admiring the glint of the silver from which the necklace had been crafted. As he tilted it, he saw something else engraved in the pendant, this time in the very center. He leaned forward and squinted, shocked that he could actually read this engraving. It was one small word that nearly blended in with the background, but when turned just right, it quite easily stood out from the smooth background:

_Teyla_

The script was elegant, curling and curving around itself. The last curl of the "a" was cut off, however, as if it was continued on the other half of the necklace.

_Teyla._ It was a name. It had to be. A word so beautiful, yet unfamiliar, had to be a name, from the same language as the rest of the engraving.

Ronon held the necklace in his hand as he reached down into the small wooden box to withdraw what had been beneath the necklace. It was a piece of paper, folded once in the middle. As he lifted it, another piece of paper fell from inside.

At least, he thought it was a piece of paper until he picked it up and turned it over.

It was a sketch, of a young woman with shoulder-length hair. She seemed to be looking right at him from the paper, her eyes intense. A very slight smile curled her lips, giving her a whimsical look. Her small hands rested casually in her lap, and even though she was seated Ronon could tell she had to be tiny. Short, delicate, fragile with her beauty.

And in the corner, a signature written in a calligraphy he knew very well. _Michaela Dex._

Ronon blinked and tore his eyes from the picture, chilled at the power that small sketch seemed to hold over him. His mother had sketched her whole life, and Ronon had done a good bit of it in his lifetime, too. But Ronon had been sure he'd already gotten all of Michaela's sketches and organized them in a scrapbook. So what was this? Who was the girl? Was this Teyla?

It was only then he remembered the letter, which he'd dropped when he picked up the picture. Ronon shifted the sketch to the same hand as the necklace and picked up the yellowed piece of parchment.

More of his mother's writing. He scanned the letter once, twice, disbelieving.

_Ronon:_

_If you are reading this letter, I am no longer alive. The existence of this letter, and the other contents of the box in which you found this, must be revealed to _no one_._

_Now that this has been said, I feel I should explain myself to you. You have undoubtedly discovered the necklace and sketch. The name on the pendant is that of the young woman in my drawing, Teyla Emmagan. She is meant for you, my son. She has the other half of your necklace, with your name engraved on it, and similarly Satedan letters instead of those of her native language. I do not know if her father has chosen to give her the necklace, but if he has, this is how you can identify her._

_I apologize for not telling you this much sooner, but I could not. Both your life, and the life of young Teyla, are in terrible danger. Perhaps I should have told you, in light of this fact. But I can only hope this letter will give you the information you need to keep yourself and your soul mate safe._

_Teyla is the key to defeating our enemy, the Wraith. I do not pretend to understand her gift, but she was born with abilities far beyond anything this galaxy has seen before. You must leave Sateda, find her, protect her, and help her fulfill her destiny. You were born for this, and for each other. But be careful who you trust, for the enemy has spies everywhere._

_The last time I saw her, she resided on a planet called Athos. The symbols you require for the Ring of the Ancestors to take you to her are engraved on the underside of the box's lid. If she is not wearing the other half of your necklace, her father and I devised another way for you to identify her. She has the same tattoo as your own on the left side of her neck. As far as I am aware, she is the only other woman in the galaxy with it._

_I pray I have made the right decision in waiting until after my death to tell you, through this letter. You must go find Teyla, and help her. I cannot promise you an easy journey, but I can promise you that you will be happy together, eventually._

_May the Ancestors bless and protect you, my son. Please be safe._

_Mother_

Ronon's fingers relaxed of their own will, and the letter drifted to the floor. He turned his gaze back to the sketch and necklace he still clutched. _Mother, what have you gotten me into?_

It was on this Friday, while Ronon cleaned out his dead mother's attic, that the greatest adventure of his life began.

_-To Be Continued-_


	2. Match

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 2/40

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-Chapter 1-

_Match_

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It was a Saturday when Teyla's entire life changed.

Life on Athos wasn't _dull_ by any means – farming and hunting kept her very busy – but she'd always dreamed of a more exciting life. A life like the ones in the stories Charin used to tell her when she was a child. Ones filled with monsters, heroes, villains, battles – and most importantly – _love_.

But she was stuck on Athos, where she would probably live out her entire boring life.

As another long, warm summer day drew to a close, Teyla sipped at her tea and tried to unwind so she could go to bed and sleep. Her body ached, and her mind ached just as badly, but she had to enjoy a cup of tea and a few minutes of relaxation before she could settle down to sleep. Otherwise her mind wouldn't shut down enough for her to rest.

She finished her tea and took her cup inside her tent to wash it with the rest of her dishes in the morning. She closed the flaps of her home and quickly changed into her nightclothes.

Then she crawled into bed and sighed happily. It was time for some sleep.

She couldn't have been asleep longer than an hour when a sound foreign to the night awoke her. She opened her eyes and lay in the dark for a long moment, hardly breathing, waiting for the sound to repeat itself.

There it was again: directly outside the flaps to her tent.

Teyla pulled her hand from beneath her pillow and reached for the knife she kept hidden beneath her sleeping pallet. She withdrew it and tucked her hand under her blanket so, should the person or animal enter her tent, they would not see the weapon until it was too late.

A patch of silver moonlight leaked across the floor as her tent flap slowly drew back. Then a dark shadow, crouched or very short, blotted out the moonlight.

Not an animal, then. No animal could open her tent flap this way.

Teyla watched as the shadow moved into her tent, and the flap dropped again. Once more darkness surrounded her. She held her breath and listened hard. Occasionally the soft _whoosh_ of fabric against fabric let her know where the intruder was, but she could only tell every now and then.

But, in her favor, they were moving slowly. A quick attack in the dark would leave her defenseless.

There! A breath, more like a sigh – but it was so close she felt the rush of air past her ear.

Teyla yanked out her knife and aimed for the position from which the gush of air had come. But before the blade struck home, something locked around her wrist.

It was warm and calloused – a hand, no doubt – but it felt as strong as an iron cuff. She grunted in frustration and opened her mouth to scream.

Another hand, as hard as the first, clapped over her mouth. "Don't scream!"

Teyla protested into his hand, but got nothing intelligible out. Just a bunch of muffled, squealed nonsense.

"_Please_ don't scream, Teyla!"

She stopped struggling and went limp. She did not recognize the voice, but this person knew her name! Her knife dropped from her hand and thudded to the ground.

The hand let go of her wrist, and she heard a thud and a muttered curse. Then light flared, so suddenly and brightly she had to squint. _What. . .? Oh. My._

She got her first good look at her attacker, and suddenly every rational and irrational thought fled from her mind. It felt like someone had sucker-punched her in the stomach and stolen all her breath.

Kind but intense green eyes stared at her from a handsomely sculpted face framed by long dreadlocks. In the glow of the candle he'd lit, his skin glowed warm honey. A neatly-trimmed beard ringed his mouth, lips slightly parted in preparation to hush her again.

But she couldn't seem to find the breath to say anything. She just lay there, on her side, staring dumbly at him.

He shifted and glanced over his shoulder as if to make sure no one had heard or seen anything and come to investigate. When he turned back to her, he whispered: "Please forgive me for treating you so – roughly. My name is Ronon Dex. I'm from Sateda."

Teyla felt whatever spell that had momentarily immobilized her break at his words. "Why should I forgive you? You came into my tent in the middle of the night!" She felt extremely perturbed with him – also very disinclined to forgive him.

He looked away. "I'm sorry about that. But – I'm here to tell you you're in terrible danger. We both are."

Even though he hadn't made a move to hurt her, she still didn't trust him She pulled her covers around her, painfully aware that she was dressed in thin pajamas to stay cool during the balmy night. "We are always in danger from the Wraith. It is part of life. I _demand_ you leave my tent immediately!"

Ronon hesitated and glanced over his shoulder again. "I can't. I know you don't believe me, but please, you _have_ to." He turned his head and tipped it to the side, revealing the smooth side of his neck to her.

Except. . . It wasn't as smooth as she thought it was. A black tattoo stood out boldly against his lighter skin, taunting her. It was exactly like the one she'd lived with since her early teens: three small dots parallel to two lines, one of which had a little flag coming off the top. Unconsciously, her hand went to her neck as she felt the blood drain from her face. "Where – _how_ did you get that?"

"I've had it since I was a teenager. Please, listen to me. We're meant for each other – to protect each other. I know it doesn't make sense, but we have to leave Athos. Now. Before it's too late." He reached into his pocket, pulled something out, and held it up to catch the light of the candle. "Here's more proof. Do you have the other half of this necklace? Did your father give it to you?"

Teyla swallowed back the lump that sprang into her throat and shook her head. "My father was killed by the Wraith a few months ago. I-I have not gone through his things yet. . ." She rapidly blinked her eyes to dispel her tears. The evidence seemed to be piling up in his favor, but she was far from ready to believe him.

"Where would he keep jewelry like this?"

Teyla pushed him away and stood, blanket wrapped securely around her shoulders. Being careful to keep an eye on him, should his intentions in her tent truly be dishonorable, she knelt next to the polished wooden chest in the corner and lifted the lid. She froze for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions. This was the first time she'd even touched it since her father had been taken.

"You okay?" Her intruder's voice was deep, concerned. She hated herself for noticing this at such an inopportune moment.

"Yes." She dug through the chest for a moment, shifting clothes, weapons, and other various items around until she found the item for which she was searching. She lifted the small red wood chest from the larger and rested it on her lap. "Here. He'd keep it here." She swiped her hands under her eyes; lifted the lid; peered inside.

Her breath caught in her throat. "How—?" She reached inside and pulled out a necklace by its chain. It dangled from her fingers, mocking her in the light of the candle.

Ronon came closer and took the pendant in his hand, then silently connected the piece of hers and the piece of his.

Perfect fit.

Teyla lifted her eyes to meet Ronon's, disbelief once more cutting off her words and breathing.

She took back her piece and turned it toward the light. In the center, a single word was carved – the only one on the necklace she could read.

_Ronon_

The intruder in her tent _was_ telling the truth!

_-To Be Continued-_


	3. Repel

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 3/40

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-Chapter 2-

_Repel_

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It was dusk when Ronon finally made it to Athos. At first he had no clue _where_ to start looking for Teyla, but when far-off voices caught his attention, he knew he'd found a settlement. That was as good a place as any to start.

For a while he stayed hidden in the woods surrounding the small village, observing. He compared each person he saw to the sketch he held, hoping he'd find the girl here. If she'd moved to another planet – or even another settlement – he'd be sunk.

But luck favored him today. Just after the sun went down, he saw the woman he was searching for in the strong glow of a large cooking fire in the middle of the settlement. He watched her quietly until she retired to a tent on the outskirts of the village.

Ronon folded the sketch carefully and tucked it in his pocket. Now, if only his good fortune stayed with him.

Considering his moves, he watched as the Athosian village slowly went to bed. He could wait until morning to go to her. But the way his mother's note read, it seemed he didn't have that much time. The longer he waited, the more the danger they were in grew.

Ronon wasn't in the habit of invading women's tents in the middle of the night, or any other time for that matter, but it appeared he didn't have any choice. Hopefully she was – alone.

He felt ridiculous, sneaking across the settlement to her tent. For a minute he crouched outside, cold despite the balmy night. Undoubtedly she would think him some sort of murderer, or pervert, or something. After all, who else would sneak into a tent in the middle of the night?

Again, he hoped she didn't have a lover – for more than one reason.

Ronon gathered his lagging courage to him and very quietly slipped open the tent flap. He waited a moment, crouched in the opening, to see if she or anyone else had heard him. He heard no sounds, so he quickly slid inside and allowed the flap to drop closed behind him. Then he waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark before he quietly moved across the tent. When the light of the moon had briefly illuminated the inside of the tent, he'd memorized the positions of all the furniture – and most particularly, the sleeping pallet.

He was almost to his destination when the toe of his boot caught on the edge of a rug, and he huffed out a breath in surprise. Then he felt and heard, more than saw, the knife coming at him from his left.

Ronon quickly grabbed for the hand holding the knife. He captured a wrist, small and warm, and clung. At the same moment he reached forward and clapped his hand over her mouth. At least, where he thought her mouth was. Thankfully, he was right.

"Don't scream!" he begged quietly.

Teyla protested into his hand, squealing and squirming. He counted it a good thing he couldn't understand what she was saying.

"_Please _don't scream, Teyla!"

She suddenly stopped struggling, and he felt the muscles in her wrist relax as she dropped the knife. It thudded to the floor next to his knee.

Ronon very carefully let go of her wrist, ready to grab it again if she tried to attack him. When she didn't move, he fumbled around for the candle he'd seen earlier. In the disorienting dark, his hand brushed the knife. He felt blood well to the surface of the small cut he'd given himself, and he jumped a little. His opposite knee banged against the night table, and he cursed lowly.

This wasn't his day.

At last he located the elusive candle, managing to get it lit. Then he sat and stared at Teyla in the light of the candle, close-up.

Wide almond-shaped eyes stared at him in shock. They were dark, fathomless: so deep he was sure if he looked long enough he would see her heart. Her skin was soft, tanned warm golden brown. The thin blanket covering her did nothing to hide her shapely form, as tiny and delicate as in his mother's sketch – just slightly more matured. And, on the side of her neck, the same tattoo that marked his own skin.

If there had been any doubt in his mind before, it was now laid to rest. This was, indeed, Teyla.

Ronon shifted, glanced over his shoulder. He was paranoid now, hearing noises in the dark where there were none. The entire village was sleeping, and _surely_ the Wraith wouldn't know he'd found her. . .

He turned back to Teyla; carefully lifted his hand from her mouth, which was gaped open. Her eyes, still wide and disbelieving, stared steadily at him.

"Please forgive me for treating you so – roughly," he apologized. "My name is Ronon Dex. I'm from Sateda." He sat back and rested his hands on his thighs, eagerly awaiting her answer.

Teyla blinked at him once, twice. She shook her head sharply, as if coming out of some spell. When she spoke, her words hurled at him like spears thrown in anger. "Why should I forgive you?" she demanded. "You came into my tent in the middle of the night!"

Ronon once more wondered at the wisdom of what had originally seemed like a good plan. "I'm sorry about that. But – I'm here to tell you you're in terrible danger. We both are."

He kept his eyes averted as she sat up and pulled her blanket around her modestly. "We are _always_ in danger from the Wraith!" she snapped. "It is part of life. I _demand_ you leave my tent immediately!"

In truth, there was nothing more he _wanted_ to do than flee her tent. But he couldn't. He had a responsibility, to protect her and prove to her that, even if they weren't soul mates, they needed each other to survive. "I can't. I know you don't believe me, but please, you _have_ to." He turned and tilted his head to expose his neck to her. Hopefully she would notice the tattoo without his having to draw her attention to it.

A soft gasp from her said she had. Ronon looked at her again as her hand flew up to cover her own tattoo. "Where – _how_ did you get that?" she asked breathlessly.

"I've had it since I was a teenager. Please, listen to me. We're meant for each other – to protect each other. I know it doesn't make sense, but we have to leave Athos. Now. Before it's too late." Ronon remembered the necklace in his pocket and withdrew it. He held it up to her so the light from the candle caught and glittered on it. "Here's more proof. Do you have the other half of this necklace? Did your father give it to you?" Ronon hoped Teyla's father had, because if not, he wasn't sure what he'd do.

Teyla blinked rapidly and shook her head. "My father was killed by the Wraith a few months ago. I-I have not gone through his things yet. . ." She trailed off, blinking again to dispel the tears sparkling in her dark eyes.

Ronon firmly resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her to comfort her. He was sure she wouldn't be appreciative of that. "Where would he keep jewelry like this?" he asked instead.

Teyla planted her hands on his chest and pushed him away. Then she stood and moved over to a large wooden chest in the corner and opened the top. For a moment she sat on her knees before it and stared into it, pain etched on her young features.

Ronon unconsciously reached out for her; realized what he was doing, snatched his hand back. "You okay?" He couldn't keep the concern from his voice. Whether she liked him, trusted him, or not – he was undoubtedly smitten with her.

"Yes." She spoke the word softly as she reached into the chest. She rearranged things in her effort to find the object she sought. At last she picked up a small red wood chest exactly like the one Ronon had found in his mother's attic. "Here. He'd keep it here." She quickly swiped more tears from her face before she opened the box.

Suddenly she froze, her entire body going rigid. "How—?" She reached inside and withdrew a necklace, the pendant at the end of the silver chain shaped to match Ronon's perfectly.

Ronon carefully approached her, then knelt before her so he could reach the necklace. He took both pieces of the necklace and connected them.

Perfect fit.

Teyla lifted her eyes to meet his. She looked tiny, shaken. Once more Ronon felt the urge to enclose her in his arms and protect her.

When she took back her half of the necklace, he didn't protest. He watched her as she stared at the small silver pendant.

"Do you believe me now?" he asked softly.

She nodded. "How can I not?" Teyla once more swiped her hand under her eyes. "Why did Father never tell me this?"

"Probably the same reason why my mother never told me. The important thing is, we know now. It's time for us to leave Athos. We have to go somewhere else, some place where the Wraith will have a hard time finding us."

Teyla looked up quickly. Suddenly, her resigned eyes regained their fire. "I _cannot_ leave Athos!" she declared. "This has been my home for my entire life. Besides, I have responsibilities here."

Ronon wanted very badly to hang his head in defeat. He hadn't expected this to be _easy_, but he hadn't expected it to be quite this difficult, either. "I left Sateda, my home for _my_ entire life. We have to do this. Have you no idea what we're supposed to do?" He pointed to the box. "Isn't there a letter in there, from your father?"

Teyla tipped the box to show Ronon the inside. Empty. "There is nothing in here, except the necklace. I have only the necklace, my tattoo, and your word. I know nothing else about you! I most certainly am _not_ going to leave Athos because you tell me I have to!"

Ronon closed his eyes and tried to figure out what to do next. He couldn't leave her alone – that was out of the question. They both were in too much danger for that. Perhaps if he stayed on Athos with her, and slowly gained her trust. . . "Fine."

Teyla looked ready to fight him teeth and bone. She opened her mouth in an obvious readiness to protest again. Then his words caught up with her, and her shoulders sagged a little. "Fine? I-I can stay?"

"Of course." Ronon moved to the doorway of the tent to lie down across the entrance. "I would never _make_ you go somewhere you don't want to." He crossed his legs at the ankles, folded his hands on his chest, and closed his eyes.

Teyla's voice was extremely vexed when she responded. "What are you doing?"

He cracked open one eye, wondering if he were actually _enjoying_ irritating her. "Staying here. We can't leave each other alone, Teyla."

She stood over him, still wrapped in her blanket, a furious expression making her look like some ancient, vengeful goddess. "You most certainly _cannot_ stay in my tent!" Her voice rose a little. "It is improper! Not to mention, I do not _like_ you!"

Ronon got to his feet and straightened his shoulders. He was over a foot taller than she – at this point, he wasn't beyond using his size to his advantage. "I don't like you much more than you like me," he lied, his voice a growl. "But you have to face the fact that we are both in danger. If you're determined to stay here, I have to stay with you."

"I do not _need_ your protection!" she argued. She stood staring up at him, her small frame shaking with indignation. It almost seemed she didn't notice how much taller than her he was.

Ronon leaned down to speak directly into her face. "And I don't need yours. But in battle, one soldier doesn't try to fight the entire war alone! We're stronger together, no matter how strong we are on our own."

Teyla abruptly spun on her heel, settled back onto her sleeping pallet, and extinguished the candle.

Ronon stood in the dark for a moment, wondering if that meant he could stay. He carefully lowered himself to the floor again. He held his breath, listening for her to protest.

She didn't, so he stayed stretched out at the entrance to her tent for the rest of the night.

_-To Be Continued-_


	4. In Sickness And in Health

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 4/40

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-Chapter 3-

_In Sickness…And in Health_

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Teyla woke to a chorus of singing birds outside her tent. Sunlight seeped through the fabric of her tent, warming her inside-out. For a moment she lay still, greeting the day with quiet tranquility that reflected her mood.

Then she remembered her midnight visitor.

Teyla sat straight up in bed and looked at the doorway of her tent. The intruder – Ronon Dex, if she remembered correctly – sat with his back to her. He'd very slightly parted the two panels of fabric that made up her door, giving him a view of what was happening outside.

"What are you _doing_?" she demanded. What would her people think if they saw a man sitting in the doorway of _her_ tent spying on them?

"Good morning, ma'am," he said politely. He closed the flap and turned to face her, face thrown into sudden shadow. "Did you sleep well?"

Teyla couldn't _believe_ what she was hearing. "You expected me to sleep well? You came into my tent in the middle of the night, told me some wild story, and expected me to believe it!" She remembered how she was dressed – or, as the case may be, _not_ dressed. She quickly pulled her sheet up and around her, but did not lessen her glare.

Ronon politely averted his gaze, but she saw a small playful smile curl his lips. They were very nice lips, she noted. . . Then felt terribly ashamed of herself. By the Ancestors, what had gotten into her?

"I'm sorry about that – I really am. It's just – this is very important. Your father and my mother came up with this whole thing. I was _supposed_ to come here, get you, and take you somewhere safe. Safe from the Wraith, I mean. Because you're. . ." He trailed off. His eyes – very green and intense – peeked at her from beneath surprisingly long lashes.

Teyla felt her icy resolve melt, just a little. Then she firmly shook off her momentary weakness. "I positively _cannot_ leave Athos. And you positively _cannot_ stay! I am not going to allow some strange man to stay in my tent."

Ronon held out his hands in a show of submission. "Are there any empty tents close to yours? We have to stay close to each other – the farther away we wander, the more danger we're in."

Teyla felt like falling down, pulling her pillow over her face, and bursting into tears. But she was a grown, responsible woman, so she didn't. However, she did feel her temper start to rise. "I have gotten along _fine_ without you for twenty-three years of my life! Who or what gives you the right to barge in now and take away my freedom? Why do you suddenly have the authority to order me around?"

"Your father gave me the authority," he said simply.

She silently seethed; longing to smack him so hard he'd remember it for the rest of his life. "My father is _dead_," she said with as much control as she could muster. "I am legally of the age to do what I wish, go where I wish, and be with whom I wish. And I most certainly do not choose to be with _you_." Teyla clutched her blanket to her with one hand and pointed to the tent door with the other. "Now _leave _right now, in peace, before I kick you out!"

Once more, that playful little grin twitched his lips. This time her thoughts were not so charitable. "Why are you smiling?" she snapped.

He looked at her with those intense eyes, and his smile faded. "I'm sorry," he apologized. And, just like that, he was serious again. These mood changes of his were beginning to disconcert her. "Look – Teyla. I really am sorry about all this. I-I didn't mean to just come and ruin your life. That was the _last_ thing I wanted to do. But. . . Your father entrusted your protection to me. And – now that I've met you – I can understand why he wouldn't want to lose someone like you."

Teyla gaped openly at him. _This_ she had not expected. What was he trying to do: woo her, or rule her? "I-I do not. . ." She closed her mouth and swallowed hard. What was she supposed to say to that?

Ronon pushed to his feet. He stood looking at her for a long moment, a broad range of emotions flickering through his eyes. At last he looked away and bowed his head. "If you want me to go, I'll go. I'm sorry to have disturbed you – just forget this ever happened." He started to duck out of her tent.

She jumped to her feet, unconsciously reaching out a hand to stop him. "No, wait!" she said, a little too loudly.

He paused and turned his head to look inquiringly at her.

Suddenly embarrassed, Teyla lowered her hand. "You should not leave yet. I do not want you to be seen leaving my tent – particularly not so early in the morning." She cleared her throat and looked down. She wondered if he looked as embarrassed as she felt.

Ronon cleared his throat once before addressing her. "Okay. When—?"

"Tonight. After everyone else is in bed. You can sneak out of the village then, and be gone through the Ring of the Ancestors without anyone but me knowing you were here." She looked up at him, curious to know his reaction.

His face was void of emotion, but he met her gaze and nodded. "Very well. Tonight it is."

Teyla should have known it wasn't going to be that easy.

**-Athos-**

"I didn't do it deliberately!" Ronon coughed and pushed away Teyla's hand, which she was trying to lay on his forehead. "You think I _want_ to be sick?"

"Keep your voice down!" she snapped. A nervous glance over her shoulder reminded him that there were others still up and around, since the sun was still up. It would not be for much longer, granted, but for now other Athosians were still up and about.

"Thank you for your concern." He coughed again, cringing at the pain it inflicted on his raw throat. "Get away, before you catch it." Ronon gently pushed at her.

Teyla leaned back and planted her hands on her hips. "I am _trying_ to help you feel better. But if you do not want my help, I will come back later." She made to stand.

"No! I'm sorry." Ronon found himself apologizing a _lot_ lately. He lay back down on the rug and put his hand over his aching eyes. "Please, I'm sorry. I just don't want you to get sick, too."

At first he didn't hear anything. Then he heard water splash; moments later a cool, wet cloth was lowered onto his forehead. "I understand. I thank you for your concern, but I am quite accustomed to caring for the ill. I have been exposed to quite a number of illnesses in my lifetime, and I doubt this one will be any different."

Ronon was too sick to leave Athos that night. Besides, even if he'd wanted to go back to Sateda, he couldn't. He'd resigned from the military, sold his home, and brought only the most important items with him to Athos. He couldn't just turn around and go back.

But he did not tell Teyla. She was already unhappy enough about him being there. He saw no point in making her madder.

Teyla brewed tea for him and helped him drink it. She promised him it would make him feel better soon. But it just made Ronon feel worse, for it tasted so awful. It burned his throat worse, and it left a bitter aftertaste that made him nauseous. Yet he still gulped it down, somehow.

Ronon wanted nothing more than to push her away so he could sweat out the illness by himself, alone and miserable. But he let Teyla fuss over him, knowing it was helping ease her mind more than anything. Besides, if he refused her hospitality, he knew it would get him nowhere in his unspoken negotiations with her. So far she'd let him stay – but he had no guarantee the same would stand when he was better.

Ronon slept very little that night. Whether it was due to the coughs he muffled into the pillow Teyla had given him, or the fever that raged unabated, he wasn't sure. A few times he remembered hearing the Athosian leave her sleeping pallet to get another cool cloth for him; a warm cup of (un-medicated) herbal tea; and a blanket for when the chills started.

By morning, Ronon was exhausted and cranky. Teyla lost patience with him more than once when he became frustrated and grumpy with her fussing. But she'd always come back with something to help nurse him – including more of the nasty tea. Once more, he choked it down without complaint, hoping to the Ancestors it would stay in his stomach. He didn't think Teyla would appreciate the stains on her rug if it didn't.

As the sun began to sink, signaling the end of another day, he heard Teyla begin to cough. Deep, hacking, rib-rattling coughs that made Ronon hurt all over again just listening to her. By now his own cough was slowly getting better, and his fever had lowered a smidgeon. He was on the mend.

Teyla continued to cough through the night. Earlier she'd made a brief appearance to her people and demanded not to be disturbed, even though she was sick. If she needed assistance, he'd heard her say, she'd go to the healer's tent. Then she'd come in, and hadn't gone out again since. A couple of times Ronon got up to check on her; despite how bad he still felt, he got her cold cloths. And some of that awful tea (brewed at night, when no one would see who was doing it). And extra blankets, for when she began to chill.

"I hate you," Teyla randomly said as he tucked a fresh, dry blanket around her. She had flashes of hot and cold: when she was hot, she sweated enough to soak her blanket. Then Ronon would have to retrieve a new one when she started to chill again.

"I know," Ronon said, voice raspy from his own bout of coughing. "But that's okay." He sat back and watched as her eyelids began to droop. She was exhausted, but he knew she would not be getting much sleep tonight.

"Thank you," she murmured. The words were so soft he wasn't sure he'd heard them, but the soft, brief smile on her face betrayed her.

Ronon waited for her eyes to close before he dared reach out and smooth a hand over her sweat-dampened hair. "You're welcome," he whispered softly. Then he leaned forward, kissed her fever-warmed forehead, and prayed to the Ancestors for her to heal quickly. "Get better soon, my soul-mate."

She had to get better. They had far worse dangers than a virus to face now.

_-To Be Continued-_


	5. Failure

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 5/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 4-

_Failure_

* * *

Ronon got better much faster than Teyla. She still hadn't kicked him out – probably because she didn't feel like it – so he stayed and tried to help her get better. He hated that she was still sick, mainly because even if an emergency situation arose that required them to leave, she was too sick to do so. They _had_ to stay on Athos now.

He wondered if the Ancestors were doing this deliberately to punish him for something.

At long last, on the fourth day of her illness, her fever broke. Ronon, exhausted from his own bout of sickness and trying to take care of her, lay down on his own sleeping pallet. He'd pulled it from its original position across the tent so it was next to hers. This way he'd be really close if she needed him during the night. He was too tired to move it back now, though. _Just a little sleep,_ he promised himself. _Then I'll move, so she'll never know. . ._

A hefty push in the center of his back shoved him off the pallet, effectively waking him, an indeterminate amount of time later. "What are you _doing_?" Teyla demanded. Her voice was void of remorse for her action.

Ronon sat up, holding his head. "It is _so_ nice to know you're feeling better," he snarked.

Her dark eyes narrowed at him. "You decided to take advantage of me while I was ill?" she demanded, pointing to his pallet.

"No," he groaned. What did she think he was, a perv of some kind? He'd never even _think_ about doing something like _that_ to _her_ at any time, but particularly not when she felt so _awful_! "What kind of person do you think I am? I was _trying_ to be close to take care of you. But if you'd rather I'd let you die, that works just as well. Because it's starting to seem like protecting you is more trouble than it's worth!" He didn't really mean the words, they just came out in frustration. The moment he said them, he regretted it. Too late now. All he could do was sit and await her response.

Teyla's gaze softened, just a little. She looked down at her hands, now placidly folded on her lap. "I apologize for being so much trouble," she said. Her voice was soft, but there was an icy edge of hurt lining her tone.

Ronon felt awful. "I'm sorry – I didn't mean what I said. I just. . . You're a really special person. Not many people would hate me but still let me stay in their tent, and take care of me even when they feel awful. I really appreciate it. I just wanted to try to repay the favor. But I'm better now, and so are you. . . So I guess it's time for me to go." He looked away again.

"No. You do not have to go." She lowered her gaze when he looked at her in surprise. "I have been thinking about what you said. Whether this danger you keep talking about is real or not, you were right when you said we were stronger together than alone. I suppose it will not hurt for you to stay a few more days, to see if your theory is right or wrong."

Ronon couldn't resist grinning lopsidedly at her. "Does this mean you like me better?" he asked.

She looked up again. Her expression darkened. "Do not stretch my hospitality," she warned.

He held up his hands in surrender and pulled out his best "I'm innocent" expression. He wasn't sure, but he thought she bought it. "You need anything?" he asked. "It's nighttime, so I can go brew more tea – if you want it."

Teyla shook her head. "No thank you, I do not want more tea." She pointed to his sleeping pallet. "If you could, however, move this back to where it was originally. . ."

"Right." Ronon dragged it back across the tent and pulled the covers over him. "Better?" he asked.

"Thank you." She laid back down, closed her eyes, lapsed into silence.

Ronon followed suit, wondering if he would _ever_ win her over.

**-Athos-**

He woke again, what had to be just a few minutes later, to Teyla's muffled screams. Ronon sat up on his pallet and jerked his head in that direction.

A dark figure loomed over Teyla's small form, one knee over her legs, effectively trapping her to her bed. His left hand covered her mouth; in his right he held a knife poised over her throat. One quick flick of his wrist and Teyla would die.

"Hey!"

Teyla's attacker turned just a little, easing the pressure on the Athosian woman's body. She grunted and managed to push him away.

Ronon dove forward at the same moment and managed to get his hands around the wrist of the hand holding the knife. He grappled with the attacker for a moment, trying to keep his attention off Teyla, trying to keep that knife from making him meet _his_ end.

The other man fought back with surprising strength. For a long time the two men grappled, each trying to gain the upper hand on the other. At last the attacker pushed Ronon away, then bolted for the door. As soon as he regained his balance, Dex followed.

At the doorway of the tent, the man spun around. In the same moment, he smoothly retrieved his gun from his holster.

The sound of two rapid gunshots boxed Ronon's ears, giving him pause just long enough for the attacker to slip away. He waited for a fraction of a moment that felt like so much longer, waiting for the pain to strike him.

But it never did.

At the same moment as this realization struck, he spun around to face the inside of the tent. Teyla stood by her pallet, face pale, hands held up to the dim light of the candle he'd kept lit on the table for the past few nights. Slick red liquid, dark crimson in the bad light, glistened on her hands. A spreading stain of the same shade soaked the right shoulder of her nightdress. She lifted her eyes, dull with shock, from her hands to look at him.

One thought burst into his mind with the force of an explosion. _Oh no, Ancestors – I've failed her!_

All this happened in less than a second. Ronon leaped forward and caught Teyla in his arms as she sagged toward the ground. As he carefully laid her down and tore off part of the bedsheet to use as a pad to stop the bleeding in her shoulder, he heard the commotion of people gathering outside. He knew at any moment they'd burst in and find them.

_The secret's out,_ he thought grimly.

_-To Be Continued-_


	6. Alterations

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 6/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 5-

_Alterations_

* * *

Only a few seconds passed before the tent flap flew open and three of the braver Athosians entered. The moment they saw him, they flew into action to drag him away from Teyla. Obviously they perceived him to be the attacker. "Get away from her!" one growled in Ronon's ear.

Another, an old woman, knelt next to Teyla. "There is something wrong with her shoulder." She looked up, her dark eyes piercing into Ronon. "What happened?"

"You ask him?" Another man, hovering at the entrance of the tent, spoke up. "He was the one who attacked her!"

The old woman squinted at him, then at Teyla. "Hmm. Quickly, find me some healing herbs. We must stop this bleeding."

Ronon figured this wasn't the wisest time to speak, but he had to do something. "She was shot," he said quickly. "I'm not sure if the bullet is still inside her shoulder, or if it went straight through. You'll need to close up both the entrance and exit wounds if it's gone through, otherwise she could bleed to death. If not, we need to determine where in her shoulder the bullet is, to see if we should leave it or get it out."

Everyone stared at him. The same question was apparent in all their eyes: _Who is this man? If he attacked her, why is he telling us what to do to save her?_

"Leave him alone," an irritated voice said.

Everyone's eyes flew to Teyla, whose eyes were open and glaring. "It was not he who attacked me."

The man in the tent spoke again. "Are you sure?"

Teyla turned her glare on him. "I am _positive_, Kanaan. My shoulder is injured, not my head. Why would I want to protect this man, if he did indeed attack me?" Despite the pain that lined her voice, her tone and expression were firm. She turned to the old woman kneeling next to her, and her gaze immediately softened. "Charin, dear friend."

"Teyla. Rest now." Charin looked up. "Halling. Valdarnan. Let him go."

"But—" The one called Kanaan began to protest again.

"Silence!" Teyla ordered. She sounded extremely irritated.

"Out, everyone!" Charin pointed to the doorway of the tent. "Someone send for the healer."

"And everyone – leave Ronon _alone_," Teyla added, features twisted in pain.

Halling and Valdarnan let Ronon go, and they all left the tent.

But for the next few agonizingly long hours, no one left him alone.

**-Athos-**

One good thing came out of the unfortunate situation Ronon found himself in. He got to see his first Athosian sunrise. It was nothing particularly spectacular for him; he'd seen others more amazing in his lifetime. The colors were washed out, faded by the ever-present clouds hanging over the landscape. Ronon wasn't sure if he'd seen more than two sunlit days in his time on this planet: coming up on a week.

Ronon stayed close to Teyla's tent, stubbornly vigilant despite the baleful looks he got from some of the Athosians. He ignored them for the most part, and none of them seemed brave enough to come tell him to move. So he stayed put, and they went about their business. They thought they were discreetly watching him from the corners of their eyes, but to Ronon their observance had the subtlety of a cavalry charge.

The sun had reached its peak in the sky by the time Charin and the healer ducked out of the tent. The healer scurried on, but the old woman stopped before Ronon. "She's asking to see you, though the Ancestors know why. She explained to me what happened." She turned her stern gaze to the two men hovering just within hearing distance. "Halling and Kanaan, come with me. Leave them – most particularly him – alone." Charin shot Ronon another unreadable look, took Halling and Kanaan's arms, and firmly steered them off.

The moment Ronon entered the tent that had become so familiar to him over the past few days, his eyes skittered over to the sleeping pallet. Teyla sat propped up against numerous fluffy pillows, her right arm bound tightly against her side. Her face still hadn't regained its full, healthy color, but other than that she seemed to have weathered this setback fairly well. "How are you doing?" Ronon asked softly as he ventured closer.

She opened her eyes and smiled faintly. "It will take more than that to get rid of me," she said. Abrasive irritation lined her tone. "Though it would appear you were correct."

Ronon knelt a foot away. "I won't say 'I told you so,' though."

Another faint smile. "Thank you." Teyla turned her head to look at him, expression serious. "So what would you suggest now, Ronon? It is obvious we cannot stay. It was foolish of me to insist. The longer I – _we_ are here, the more danger it puts my people in." She shifted a little onto her left side to face him better. "Where do we go now?"

Ronon blinked in surprise. He wasn't expecting her to give in that easily – in fact, he'd had a long argument all lined up in his mind to talk her into leaving. He quickly recovered and spoke before she could change her mind. "I have a friend we could stay with. He lives on Atlantis."

Teyla froze, eyes wide. "A-Atlantis? The City of the Ancestors?"

Ronon nodded. "Yes. Actually. . . It's more like a thriving metropolis. There are marketplaces, courthouses, apartment buildings, and – well, you have to see it to believe it. They have defenses against the Wraith there, ones that will keep us – and them – safe. It's the best place to be."

She stared at something only she could see over his left shoulder. "I have lived here my entire life. It is hard to believe I have to leave now."

Ronon reached out and briefly touched her good arm. "It's okay. I don't see why we can't come back, later. . ." He trailed off. He wished he could promise her, but he couldn't. Their future was just too uncertain. For a moment she looked like she wanted to cry, scream, beat him to a pulp. If she'd wanted it, he was almost sure he'd have let her. He understood he was making her life all that much harder. He'd literally turned it upside down and inside out in less than a week.

Teyla drew in a deep breath, immediately shuttering her expression. "We should leave as soon as possible," she said with certainty. "The sooner we leave, the sooner my people can be left in peace."

"True." Ronon shifted and made to stand. "Should I leave now?"

Teyla shook her head. "Not unless you want to." A brave smile briefly wavered on her lips. "After all, we're supposed to be getting used to each other, right?"

Ronon blinked in surprised pleasure and nodded. "Well – yes?" He looked away and back. "Do you need me to help you pack?"

She actually laughed as she struggled into a sitting position. "I have heard that men are not useful in packing situations. Please go get Charin, the woman who was with me earlier."

He nodded and left. Came back a few minutes later with Charin, who immediately went to work packing Teyla's things with brisk efficiency. "I see you have finally accepted the truth," she said softly to Teyla.

Ronon saw Teyla's head snap around from where she was clumsily one-handedly packing a wooden chest full of clothing. "What do you mean, 'the truth'?" she demanded.

Charin paused in her work and turned to look Teyla dead in the eyes. "My dear child. Your father told you about your destiny when you were little. Do you not remember?"

"His stories. . ." A distant look entered her eyes. "I always thought they were nothing more than legend. I certainly did not believe he was talking about _me_."

Charin slid Ronon a sideways glance and smiled. "Teyla, your great protector has come. It is time for you to leave Athos."

Ronon watched as Teyla clutched the edge of her trunk with her good hand. "I know," she said quietly. "But – if you knew about this all along, why did you never tell me? At least after my father died?"

The calm old woman folded her hands in front of her and shook her head. "Because, dear, it was not my place. I went through Tughan's things after he was taken. He did not leave you a letter. I knew he meant to write one. . . But you know how his life was. He was very busy."

"He should not have been too busy for this," Teyla said bitterly. "Did he not understand that this would change my whole life? Did he conspire with Ronon's mother, without consulting either of us, for spite?"

Charin shook her head. "No. Tughan and Michaela both wanted to tell you about this. But you were very young, barely in your teenage years, when this entire plot was hatched. When it was discovered that the Prophecy was talking about you. They knew you would not understand."

Teyla didn't look up. She just kept stuffing clothes into the trunk; small crystal teardrops dripped from her cheeks onto the apparel. Ronon felt her pain keenly inside him, almost as though he physically ached. He'd harbored some bitterness toward his mother for not telling him. . . But at least he'd had a letter. All Teyla had was the necklace, Ronon's word, and a string of strange coincidences.

And Charin, the strange old woman who seemed to be on Ronon's side in this whole thing. Not that he wanted to be on an opposing side to Teyla.

"I'm sorry," Ronon said softly. It was inadequate – horribly so – but all he could find to say.

His Athosian soul mate quietly closed the trunk and slid the bolts in place to keep it closed. "Thank you," she said very softly.

Ronon took two steps forward and enclosed her in his arms. This time, Teyla did not pull away.

_Surely_ life would be better for them on Atlantis. . .

_-To Be Continued-_


	7. Atlantis

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 7/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 6-

_Atlantis_

* * *

Atlantis greeted Ronon with the warm familiarity he craved. While it wasn't as much home as Sateda, Atlantis felt _more_ like home than Athos. And he could see the sun _clearly_ again!

Teyla stopped just out of the Ring, her mouth slightly agape at the sheer _beauty_ around her. The airy, open room in which the interplanetary device was housed spoke of ageless wonder and exquisiteness. Vaulted ceilings, painted in swirls of tan, blue, and green domed down to three-sided walls of stained glass windows. On the balcony above, men and women dressed in crisp white uniforms went about their usual business. Visitors to Atlantis was an everyday occurrence.

"Dex!" A shout from the grand mezzanine level above brought Ronon's and Teyla's attention there. "Is it really _you_?"

"Sheppard!" Ronon laughed and shook hands with his old friend. "Don't tell me you've been demoted already!"

Atlantis's military commander made a face. "No, I haven't. I'm just here to check in with the Governor before I head back over to the mainland. You want to hitch a ride?" At that moment, the dark-haired Colonel seemed to notice Ronon's companion. "Oh. Who have we here, Ronon? You been holding out?"

Ronon scowled at Sheppard before turning to put a gentle hand on Teyla's good shoulder. "Colonel John Sheppard this is Teyla Emmagan. She's – an acquaintance of mine, from Athos."

Sheppard grinned and nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, ma'am." He turned back to Ronon. "So, what're you doing here? Anything I can help with?"

"Not really – except we'd be happy to accept that offer for a ride to the mainland."

Ronon's friend rubbed his hands together gleefully and nodded. "No prob. Hang on, I just have to go pick up my other passenger, then I'll be ready to go. You guys can go on up to the bay – it's Jumper One, the usual." He nodded politely, excused himself, and ran off.

Teyla gaped at her surroundings one more time before looking at Ronon. "We are staying _here_?"

"Well – not here." He generously tipped the worker who came down to take Ronon and Teyla's luggage up to the Jumper bay. He offered his arm to Teyla, who eyed it suspiciously before accepting his help up the grand staircase. "Not in the city. We'll be staying somewhere on the mainland. Atlantis, the city, is more for – the original inhabitants of this place, and their descendants. Everyone else just stays on the mainland Atlantis."

"These are _Ancestors_?"

"Shh." Ronon smiled politely and tugged her along a little faster. "Kind of. More like their descendants. Trust me, the mainland is just as impressive as the city. You'll love it here."

Teyla tossed him a look that questioned the truth of his words, but refrained from comment. At the same moment as they entered the Jumper bay, Sheppard came in the other entrance with two people in tow. He shot Ronon and Teyla exasperated looks and stalked up the ramp into Jumper One with a jerk of his head for the visitors to follow.

The other two passengers boarded, arguing in loud tones. "I'm telling you, you've got it _all_ wrong!" the short brown-haired man said crabbily.

The tall woman with whom he was arguing crossed her arms and settled herself into the co-pilot's seat. "I've been flying Jumpers for almost twelve years, Dr. McKay. I think I know what I'm doing."

Sheppard snickered. Ronon slumped in his seat and wondered how long _this_ flight was going to be. Typically the total fly time was ten minutes from the city to the mainland, but a tense atmosphere was sure to make it seem much longer.

McKay sulked and lowered himself onto one of the bench seats in the rear bay. "I can fly those, too," he snipped. "You and Sheppard and your genes aren't anything special."

The young woman laughed. "Just having the gene doesn't make flying this thing easy. It takes time and practice. You'll get it eventually, doctor."

Ronon leaned forward in his seat to look back at McKay. He'd met the scientist before, on previous trips to Atlantis. But never before had he sounded so – disagreeable. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Major Dewaly over there thinks all it takes is years of flying experience and the special gene to fly these ships. I bet I could prove her wrong – I've got the gene, so I bet I can fly this thing using nothing but my _own_ genes and my genius." He tapped his forehead.

Their tall co-pilot swapped grins with Sheppard, then turned in her seat to address Rodney. "Tell you what, McKay. When I fly back to Atlantis, you can come with me, and we'll see how well you can fly this thing."

"No!" Sheppard yelped. "This is _my_ ship! You can't let him crash it!"

Major Dewaly shrugged gracefully. "I think Jumper Three is tuned up and ready on the mainland. We'll take that one back, then."

McKay smirked, crossed his arms, and leaned back in his seat. Obviously, confidence was not one of his lacking qualities.

Teyla sat still in her seat, eyes closed. He wondered if she, like him, was praying for patience. Then again, the three small lines of pain that creased her forehead made him wonder if her arm was hurting again. "Hey, you okay?" he asked. He couldn't keep the concern out of his voice.

She opened her eyes and nodded. "I am fine. The herbs in the tea I drank before we left were meant to ease pain, but their effectiveness is wearing off now. I have some more of the herb in my luggage. I will fix myself more tea when we reach our destination."

Ronon nodded. "We'll be there soon." He pointed out the front windshield. "See?"

Teyla shifted in her seat so she could see where he was motioning. Her jaw dropped at the sight of the beautiful city they were approaching. "I-It is beautiful!"

"See? Told you it's almost as pretty as Atlantis."

She nodded. "It is so – big. Even from this distance."

"You haven't seen anything yet," Sheppard told her with a grin. "There's marketplaces, bars, restaurants, dance clubs, festivals. . . Trust me, you'll never be bored while you're here!" His smile faded. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Ronon. "Unless you're here for business, that is."

"Part business, part pleasure," Ronon replied vaguely.

"Ah." Sheppard turned his attention forward again. "I see." Another smile twitched at his lips, but this one didn't escape his control.

When at last the expert pilot settled Jumper One to rest on the landing pad just south of the heart of the city, Ronon stood and offered Teyla his arm again. Her white-knuckled grip on his arm told him more than her earlier words about the pain she was in. She'd been brushing it off as nothing. No big surprise – she didn't seem the type to complain. In a way he liked that she was so strong. But also, he wanted to know when she was hurting, so he could help her. . .

If she ever would, that is.

As they disembarked the ship, Ronon drew in deep breaths of the fresh, salty air he'd missed while on Athos. The city in which he'd lived on Sateda was fairly close to the ocean, but it had taken very windy days to blow the scent of fresh saltiness as far as his home. Here, everywhere in the city there was to go, the scent could clearly be smelled.

Teyla seemed drawn in by everything already. "Wow," she said softly. "This place is – like nowhere I have ever been. It is so beautiful."

Ronon lifted his free hand to gently squeeze her small hand. "When you're feeling better, I'll take you on a tour. I know we're here to get away from the dangers. . . But since we're mostly safe here, there's no point in letting this beauty go to waste."

Teyla smiled up at him in thanks as Dr. McKay scurried off on some errand he'd come to do. Major Dewaly smiled politely at Ronon and Teyla and went over to the other jumper resting on the landing pad.

John shouted to the closest man and motioned to Ronon and Teyla's luggage. "Chuck will escort you to the hotel, and have your luggage delivered there. I assume you want to stay where you usually do. . .?" He trailed off and raised an eyebrow.

Ronon nodded. "Thanks, Sheppard."

"No problem, friend. You need anything else while you're here, just let me know." He shook hands with Ronon, then Teyla. Moments later, he'd vanished back into the jumper in which he'd brought them.

"It's not far to the hotel. Can you walk there?"

"Yes," Teyla said, somewhat stiffly. Ronon didn't bother to tell her there were methods of transportation here, and he hadn't meant to carry her. The look on her face was too priceless.

As they strolled the busy streets behind their guide, Ronon felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He quickly eyed the immediate area, but saw no one and nothing suspicious. The whole point of coming to Atlantis was to escape trouble, and it was so unlikely that any danger could have followed them – or be waiting.

He credited his bad feeling to nerves and escorted Teyla into the cool, plush lobby of the place where they'd stay during their stay.

If there _was_ something dangerous here, he vowed he wouldn't fail her again. This time, he'd be ready.

_-To Be Continued-_


	8. Midnight

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 8/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 7-

_Midnight_

* * *

Ronon stood on the balcony of the large suite he and Teyla had gotten. He leaned on the balcony railing, casually scanning the crowds below. That nagging chill at the back of his neck still hadn't gone away, but now that he and Teyla were under some sort of cover instead of out in the open street, he felt a little better.

He'd missed this, the hustle-and-bustle of Atlantis. In the distance, the smells and sounds of Market Street floated toward him on the warm ocean breeze. It stirred the old familiar excitement in the pit of his stomach; he was anxious to share all that Atlantis had to offer with Teyla. She'd never been on a world like this, and he knew she'd enjoy herself.

As much as anyone could enjoy themselves with such a heavy threat hanging over them like a storm cloud.

Suddenly the view was no longer as exciting. Ronon turned and went back into the cool, air-conditioned comfort of the suite's living room and closed the balcony doors. He checked twice to make sure they were latched tightly before sitting down on the couch, where he had a good view of both entrances into the suite. If anyone came in, he'd know about it.

Ronon passed a few hours staring at the ceiling, thinking about how much his life had changed in the past week. He hoped Teyla would warm up to him soon. It made him uncomfortable, knowing she hated him. But he had no choice but to stay with her and protect her.

The sun was beginning its free-fall to the horizon when Teyla stepped out of her bedroom. She'd traded in the wrap holding her arm to her side for a soft turquoise sling to match the tunic she wore over flowing black pants. Her small, bare feet peeked out as she moved gracefully across the room to sit on the chair opposite the couch. "Haven't you slept?" she asked him. She looked surprised.

"No," Ronon said. "I'm gonna sleep on the couch while we're here, though, so I can keep an eye on the doors. I don't want any unwelcome guests coming in."

Teyla lowered her eyes. "I feel – badly," she said. "You should not be doing all this. Especially not after the way I have been treating you."

This new, mellow Teyla unnerved him. "Well – you know – it's. . ." He trailed off, not sure what to say.

She smiled wanly. "I understand. Thank you."

Ronon nodded and grinned. "No problem." He nervously rapped his fingers on the arm of the couch. "So – are you hungry?"

"A little." Teyla tucked her feet under her. "You have been here before. Where do you recommend?"

He shifted into a more comfortable position. "Do you feel like going out? If you don't, we can stay here. The hotel has room service, so we can order in from the restaurant downstairs. Or we can go down there. Or, if you feel like it, we can go out." He didn't add that it would probably be safer to stay here. After all, he wasn't entirely sure there _was_ a threat to them on Atlantis. He was probably overreacting. And it wouldn't be fair to Teyla to keep her locked up, when she seemed so curious about what was out there on this new world.

Teyla still looked pale and tired from the time she spent sick, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that said she wasn't too tired to explore. "I want to go out. This is all new to me, and – I want to see what this world offers."

Ronon stood and moved to stand next to her chair. He held out his hand to her and smiled his most winning smile. "Shall we?"

For the first time, she smiled. A true, sparkling, happy smile that nearly knocked him sideways. She had a beautiful smile. . .

It nearly killed him when her small hand slid into his so he could help her stand. It felt so right there, he wanted to wrap his fingers around hers, draw her to him, and kiss her. But he let go of her hand to hold the door open for her.

She may be warming up to him a little now, but there was no way he was going to jeopardize this by making the wrong move. But when she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow as they walked out into the fading sunlight, Ronon had no idea how he was going to manage _not_ telling her that he was pretty sure he was in love with her.

**-Atlantis-**

Ronon prowled the confines of the suite with restless steps. Teyla had retired to her room not long after they returned. She'd insisted on seeing at least part of the marketplace after they ate, and by the time they came back to the hotel Teyla looked even paler than before. But she was happy, as far as he could tell, and that was good enough for him. He hoped a good night's rest would take that ashen undertone from her skin, and the dark circles from beneath her eyes.

He checked both doors for the hundredth time to make sure they were closed tightly and locked securely. After his spectacular failure on Athos, he wasn't going to allow anyone – not even a common thief wanting nothing but their belongings – into the place.

Exhaustion began to drag at him on his next circuit around the spacious living room. He rubbed his eyes and yawned tiredly. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was still wasn't back to one-hundred percent after being sick.

Ronon sat down on the couch, leaning his head back with a tired sigh. He vowed to himself not to fall asleep – just to rest for a minute.

His eyes drooped closed, and he found he didn't have the energy to raise them again. . .

. . .He snapped to instant alertness a little later, feeling surprisingly rested for how little time he must have slept. Out of habit, Ronon sat motionless and quiet for a moment. He listened hard, trying to identify the sound that awakened him. . .

There it was again. It was coming from beyond the half-closed door into Teyla's room. The apartment was surprisingly stuffy, so she must have opened it earlier. . . Or someone else had opened it to get in.

Ronon lithely stood. He drew his weapon from its holster at his hip as he crept across the room toward that door. Intently he listened, waiting for that sound to repeat itself – and there it was.

Moving silently on the carpeted floor with his bare feet, he tightened his grip on his gun with his right hand and placed the left on the door. Mentally he counted to three, then he shoved the door the rest of the way open and _pounced_.

A breathless grunt met his ears as his body impacted something small and light. Pure instinct sent him scrambling; he straddled Teyla's potential attacker and shot out his free hand to grip their throat. He shoved his gun into where he was pretty sure the guy's chest was. "What are you doing?" he rasped.

The voice was muffled but undoubtedly recognizable when the response came. "I was attempting to use the facilities." There was a breath of a pause, then Teyla said wryly, "But I suppose that's unnecessary now."

Ronon nearly choked when he recognized her. He realized he was jabbing the barrel of his gun into a particularly sensitive part of her anatomy; he jumped up as if burned and plastered himself back against the wall. "Ancestors! Teyla, I'm so sorry. . ." He shut up before he dug his grave any deeper.

Teyla picked herself up off the floor with grace he couldn't manage at such a late – or would that be early? – hour. Now, with the light of the moon coming in through the blinds across the room, he could easily recognize her form – and her silky white nightgown. How could he have mistaken her? She kept her right arm, now unwrapped and free of the sling, tucked close to her body. He wondered if he'd injured her further with his little stunt. He broke out in a cold sweat at the thought.

"I'm so sorry. I just heard a noise, and I didn't know it was you. I guess I'm just so jumpy. Honest, I didn't mean to – you're not hurt, are you?" He ran out of breath and stopped.

Teyla stared at him in a way that suggested she wasn't sure whether to be amused or bemused. At the moment, she looked a little bit of both. For a moment she just stood there, gaping at him.

Ronon saw the change in her expression a split second before her left fist caught him square in the nose. He staggered back two steps, surprised at the power she'd mustered up from her tiny body. He clutched at his nose, relieved when he didn't feel the slick stickiness of blood on his fingers. Good – his nose would just be sore for a while, not broken. "What was that for?" he demanded.

A shadow of a smirk formed on her lips, and Ronon's breath caught in his throat. "Everything." Then, calmly, she turned and disappeared into the bathroom.

Ronon somehow managed to stumble out of her room and collapse on the couch. _Ancestors, now what do I do?_

Did she hate him again? Or was she beginning to soften? Considering that mean left hook, he leaned more toward the former. But there was that smirk on her lips. . .

He closed his eyes and put his arm over them. _I'm in love with her. Irrecoverably, irrevocably, undeniably in love. But – how does she honestly feel about me?_

Only time would tell.

_-To Be Continued-_


	9. Emotion

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 9/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 8-

_Emotion_

* * *

Teyla stared at the ceiling, suddenly unable to sleep. She felt horrible for punching Ronon – after all, the poor man was only trying to protect her. But he'd startled her so badly, and combined with all the stress she'd been under lately. . . Well, to say the least, she'd lost her temper for a moment. Now she was _seriously_ regretting her impetuous move. She knew she'd never be able to sleep until she apologized. Sighing heavily, she dragged herself out of the warm comfort of her bed, slipped a robe over her gown, and crept out into the main room of the suite.

Ronon lay sprawled on the couch, one arm over his eyes, a miserable expression on his face. Now she felt even _guiltier_. "Ronon?" she whispered. If he was asleep, she'd go back to bed and wait until morning. If he was awake. . .she'd apologize and let come what may.

Lifting his arm, Ronon sat up and twisted around to face her. "Teyla!" he said. He sounded very surprised. She couldn't blame him: she was kind of surprised to find herself here, too.

Teyla crept a little closer. "I apologize for punching you. I did not break your nose, did I?"

A brief, humorous grin twitched Ronon's lips. "No, you didn't break my nose." Breathing a soft laugh, his smile twisted a little sarcastically. "It'll be sore, though," he added wryly.

"I am so sorry," Teyla said miserably. "I really did not mean to punch you – I just lost my temper, and. . ." She trailed off and bit her lip. There was no point in pushing the issue.

Ronon stood and came over to wrap her in a gentle but awkward hug. "Teyla, it's okay. I understand. I was being a little – overzealous. Overprotective. It was my fault, really. I should have taken more time to analyze the situation, instead of pouncing on the first moving thing I saw." He started to pull away, but Teyla clung to him. The move was admittedly irrational, considering how she felt – or would that be _had felt_? – about him. She rested her head on his chest – filing away for later the information that he had a very nice, strong, broad chest – and closed her eyes. Maybe she'd been judging him _too_ harshly all this time. Maybe he really _did_ mean to protect her, though why he'd want to risk his life for someone he didn't know she couldn't quite grasp. There was just _something_ about him. . .

He hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arms around her again in a tight hug. "You know," he said softly, "I didn't mean what I said, back on Athos. I don't hate you."

Teyla felt her lips curl upwards. "I don't think I hate you, either."

"Does that mean you like me?" Ronon asked hopefully. She could almost feel him smile.

"Maybe. A little." Her unwilling smile grew a little wider. "But do not let that inflate your ego."

Ronon laughed; a warm, rich, happy sound that made her feel good just hearing it. "Okay," he agreed. His breath stirred the hair atop her head, and she felt a chill run down her spine.

Perhaps this is what she'd been protecting herself against all along. . .

. . .Now that she didn't hate him, she was falling for him. Fast and hard. And she didn't know how to stop herself.

**-Atlantis-**

Ronon offered her his arm again – this was becoming a habit – and she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"To meet John and his friend for lunch." Ronon's eyes sparkled.

Narrowing her own, Teyla gave him her best _shape-up-or-I-_will_-hit-you-again _look. "I _know_ we are going to meet them for lunch. But where?"

He caved. "In the marketplace. There's really not a place to sit down and eat there, but the food is to _die_ for. Sheppard and I used to get take-out from there all the time."

Teyla welcomed the warmth of Atlantis's sun on her skin as they stepped out of the lobby of their hotel. While she was used to the cool nights of Athos, she still hadn't found a comfortable setting for the air conditioner in her room. "So when do I get to hear how you met him?" she asked.

A groan slipped past his control as he eyed her askance. "Probably today. Sheppard _loves_ to tell that story."

Teyla rolled her lips together to hide her smile. "Very well then."

A comfortable silence fell between them as they navigated their way into the busy marketplace. Ronon seemed unusually vigilant, his eyes continuously scanning for any sort of threat. Unsettled, Teyla followed his lead. The whole point of their coming to Atlantis was to buy them some time to figure out what to do next before they made their next move toward this destiny of theirs – whatever it was.

Teyla hadn't been able to sleep even after apologizing to Ronon – this time because she couldn't shut off her mind from thinking about her new-found feelings for him – so she'd gotten back up. They'd discussed the situation at length, and he'd shown her the letter from his mother. She vaguely remembered the woman, known to her only as Michaela, whom her father had told her had been commissioned to do a sketch of her for posterity's sake. At the time, she hadn't thought about it. . . But over the years, she _had_ wondered what had happened to that sketch. Now she knew – Ronon had it. He'd tried to give it to her, saying it was rightfully hers anyway, but she'd told him to keep it. She didn't know why, it just felt right for him to have it since his mother sketched it.

The silver necklace her father had left for her – the other half of Ronon's – had now found a permanent home around her neck. She hadn't completely accepted this entire situation – it was so different, so outlandish, how could she? But, a little bit at a time, she was starting to get used to the idea.

Pulling her out of her thoughts, and further into the crowd, Ronon leaned over to speak directly into her ear, since the marketplace was so noisy. "There's the restaurant, over there. . . And there's Sheppard and his friend." He lifted his head again, putting him at least six inches taller than anyone else in the crowd.

Greetings flitted among the group as they got in line to order. John's "friend" was actually the head of Atlantis Intergalactic University's archeology department. At the moment, dressed in boots, jeans, a denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a floppy hat to protect her already sun-kissed cheeks and peeling nose, Elizabeth Weir looked every bit the part of an archeologist. "It's a pleasure to meet you both," she said upon introduction. "Welcome to Atlantis."

"Thank you," Teyla said politely. "It is very beautiful here."

Dr. Weir ruefully looked down at her mud-and-dust spattered clothes and grinned unrepentantly. "First off, I apologize for my appearance – I just came from a dig. Secondly, not all of Atlantis looks as beautiful as the beach area and the marketplace – my digs usually look as old and run-down as any other abandoned civilization."

"Is it fun?" Teyla questioned. "Archeology, I mean."

Elizabeth brushed a curl of dark hair off her cheek and laughed. "I don't know if _fun_ would be quite the word I'd use," she said. "It's quite dirty and tedious work. Things are quite repetitive, because we have to do some techniques over and over again, particularly if the objects we find are in pieces – or fragile enough to fall to pieces if we're not careful. But the wealth of knowledge we gain about our ancestors, and the civilization in which they thrived. . . It's very satisfying, at the end of the day," she said retrospectively.

"How long have you worked as an archeologist, or as a professor at AIU?" Teyla wondered. She found herself being drawn into the subject.

Elizabeth pulled off her hat to slide her strong, slender, tanned hand through her tousled chocolate curls. "I've been an archeologist since I graduated from AIU when I was twenty-three," she said. "And I've been teaching at the university for the past – oh, what would you say, John? – four years? Five?"

John interrupted his conversation with Ronon to nod. "That sounds about right, four or five."

"I don't know why I ever ask you," Elizabeth said teasingly. "You can't even remember my birthday half the time."

Sheppard scowled and returned to his previous conversation.

Plopping her hat firmly back on her head, Elizabeth laughed and turned back to Teyla. "You see? Men are no good with dates – whether they be days of the year, or dinners owed for fifty different kinds of aggravation."

The conversation paused so they could get their food – Teyla just let Ronon order for her, since she'd never had food from this planet before – and they walked until they found enough room for all four of them to sit and eat together.

As the afternoon progressed, Teyla began to think that maybe, just maybe, she could get used to this new life.

_-To Be Continued-_


	10. High Tide

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 10/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 9-

_High Tide_

* * *

"So _I_ get a call from this _enraged_ street vender, who says this guy cheated him out of almost half the cost of the music box. So I meet the vender, find out it's the _same_ guy I'd flown from the city before, and run off looking for him. Meanwhile the street vender is still yelling and cursing and ranting, demanding to get his money. You could hear him all through the marketplace, no kidding." John punctuated his words with exuberant waves of his hands in illustration.

"Hey!" Ronon protested. "It's not _my_ fault _you_ didn't tell me that the intergalactic currency – which is supposed to be the same on almost _every planet in this galaxy_ – isn't valued the same here!"

"I don't understand that," Sheppard mused. "Anyway, that's beside the point, my friend."

Elizabeth laughed. "Go on, tell her what happens next." Obviously she'd heard this story before.

Teyla expectantly turned back to Ronon and Sheppard.

Ronon rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll tell you – but only so the story will be told _correctly._ When Sheppard caught up with me, I was on the way back to the _Daedalus_ transport to go back to the city, then on to Sateda and home. Naturally we recognized each other. He hadn't told me he was military, and I hadn't told _him_ I was the same. So, when he explained the situation to me, I instantly introduced myself to him as a Satedan soldier." His eyes narrowed. "It still took over five hours to sort the entire situation out."

Sheppard laughed. "I almost took him to jail and locked him up, just for the heck of it. But I didn't want to cause a big hoopla between the Satedan and Atlantian governments, so I left it alone."

"I almost didn't come back," Ronon muttered. "But Sateda and Atlantis became allies almost two years after Sheppard and I met, so how could we _not_ be friends?"

"We could have been at each other's throats all the time," John said cheerfully. "But, you know, I'm just an inherently lazy person, and I don't like to fight unless I have to."

Elizabeth brushed the last of the crumbs from her sandwich off her hands and squinted up at the sun. "I hate to say this, because I'm having a fantastic time, but I have a dig to get back to. I'm sorry." Smiling, she stood. "Is there another time we could get together?"

Teyla glanced at Ronon from the corner of her eye, not trusting herself to mention a time. Ronon knew this world much better than she, so she deferred to him. He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. "Whenever would be okay – but I'd prefer to be back to the hotel by 2600 hours when we do meet, if that's okay."

Another thing Teyla couldn't get used to: twenty-eight hours in a day. She was so accustomed to the twenty-one hour days on Athos that getting her internal clock to switch to a twenty-eight hour day was wreaking havoc with her sleeping patterns.

Elizabeth shrugged, grinned, and nodded. "Sure. Just tell John when and where and _hope_ he remembers to tell me." Shooting her friend a look, she waved and headed off.

"Her job is so fascinating," Teyla said. "There's so much to learn from the past."

"She won't let you forget it, either." John pushed his hands in his pockets as the three headed off through the marketplace. "Whenever she's on a dig you can pretty much find her there all the time. She even pitches a tent and sleeps there. She doesn't trust security."

Teyla suddenly found herself missing her tent on Athos. She loved the luxuries Atlantis offered her, but she missed home. Swallowing back the feeling, she smiled and nodded. "It sounds like a very interesting line of work."

"She thinks it is, at least." John glanced at his timepiece and cringed. "Great. I'll see you later, okay? I'm due back in Atlantis in less than fifteen minutes. Bye!"

The two wished Sheppard farewell and continued their stroll through the marketplace. "You do know the currency now, right?"

Ronon shot her a withering look. "Yes, I know the currency now."

Teyla smothered her grin. "Good."

"Why? See something you like?" He gazed around the immediate area, as if to try to find what had caught her eye.

"No. I was just curious. I do not want to be thrown in prison." This time she couldn't help but laugh at the expression on Ronon's face.

Suddenly his expression softened. He gazed thoughtfully at her, his head tilted slightly. "Want to go to the beach?" he asked.

Teyla blinked at the sudden subject change. "Sure." Anything to get out of this crowded marketplace. She was used to the small, quiet spaces on Athos. Here everything was large, crowded, and noisy.

The crowd thinned out once they reached the border between the soft, loose sand and the hard-packed dirt of the marketplace. Teyla took Ronon's arm again as they kicked off their shoes and walked lazily down the beach.

The sun was beginning to go down, throwing beautiful red-gold glints across the water. The ocean was calm, the waves lapping up the sand close to Ronon and Teyla's feet.

"There, see?" Ronon pointed to the distance. "Barely visible on the horizon – do you see that?"

Teyla squinted. "I do not – wait, that is Atlantis!"

Ronon nodded, grinning. "Yes, it is. You can't really see it well in the daylight, but as the sun goes down, if you're standing on just the right spot on the beach, it becomes as clear as it can be at this distance. See why I wanted you to come out here?"

"Yes." They once more returned to their stroll. "It is truly beautiful here."

"You miss Athos." Maddeningly matter-of-fact, Ronon's voice cut through her façade of calm enjoyment of the situation.

Teyla turned her face away, allowing the warm breeze off the ocean to blow her hair and hide her expression. "Yes, I do," she said softly. "But sometimes we have to make sacrifices for the ones we love, do we not?"

Ronon was quiet a minute; there was a certain pained quality in his silence. Then, "Yes, we do."

She turned sharply to look at him. Now he was the one carefully avoiding her gaze.

"Stop." Teyla tugged on his arm to make him obey. "Listen to me, please. I understand that I have been incredibly cruel to you, considering all you have done for me. I apologize. I want to – to thank you, for what you are doing for me."

"Even though I took you away from your home? From everything and everyone you've ever known and loved?"

She hesitated. That was difficult, she had to admit. But. . . "It is not like we will not be able to return, after this is over. We are just – on an extended vacation right now."

Ronon's lips twitched into a small but attractive smile. "I think I like you, Teyla."

For some reason, those words warmed her insides. She felt heat creep up her cheeks, and she glanced away from his intense eyes. "I – think – maybe – I _might_ like you, too."

She could almost feel him grin again. His strong arms encircled her, hugging her tightly. "Thanks, Teyla."

The warmth from her core spread out to envelope her entire body. Was this what love was supposed to feel like? True, intense, soul-mate love? "Thank you, Ronon," she whispered into his chest.

The first few steps from there, with his arm around her shoulders and hers around his waist, were a bit awkward. But as they warmed to each other and their surroundings, things got easier.

As the sun sank toward the far-off horizon, the surf crept higher and higher up the beach. When they reached a narrower strip of the sandy shore, Ronon helped her up a rocky outcrop well above where the tide would hit (when the tide was fully up, the drop would be ten feet into the water, which would be almost fifteen feet deep). Then they sat side by side and watched the sun slowly be eaten by the horizon.

Ronon finally took her hand. "I think we'd better go," he said. "We need to be back at the hotel before it's dark."

"Agreed." Teyla accepted his hand up, enjoying how he casually kept hold of it even after she was standing.

They turned to go. . .and froze.

"I missed you on Athos," the figure standing before them said. "But I can be assured I won't miss you here." The unwavering muzzle of his gun pointed toward them. There was an air of casual disinterest in the way he spoke, and the way he held his weapon. The black cloth mask obscuring his face offered him yet another level of professional precision.

Before Teyla could react, Ronon had placed himself between her and the gun. "Why are you so anxious to be rid of us?" the Satedan demanded. "And how did you find us _here_?"

Teyla looked down as Ronon pulled his hand from hers, but kept it behind his back. He pointed toward the edge of the outcrop behind her, then slipped it beneath his shirt and unsheathed a knife. She wondered how many more he had hidden on his person.

"You're the prey, I'm the hunter. Do you not understand how this works?" their enemy sighed.

Petite Teyla, sufficiently hidden behind Ronon's lean but tall build, slowly backed toward the edge. She held her breath, hoping she wouldn't fall before she could jump – and that she wouldn't hit any rocks on the way down.

And, more importantly even, that there would be enough water at the bottom for her to dive into and not kill herself by breaking her neck at the bottom.

"Of course I understand how this works. I'm just curious. Besides, I prefer to know the reasons why someone wants to kill me when they do. It helps me be more willing to – you know – accept my fate."

Teyla felt the irrational urge to laugh well up in her throat. Was Ronon actually _serious?_

The man smiled and shook his head. "No. You're not going to catch me with that."

Teyla's heel hit the edge of the outcrop, and she stopped. _Where is Ronon going with this?_

"I'm afraid I already have, my friend." Ronon dropped into a crouch so quickly Teyla barely saw him move. "Jump, Teyla!"

As she spun, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye: Ronon throwing the knife. She flexed her knees and then leaped into the air, hoping her still-tender shoulder would be able to handle the beating it was going to get when she hit the water. Then again, if she hit her head or broke her neck at the bottom, it wouldn't matter, would it?

As the water below rushed toward her faster than she liked, she closed her eyes. Seconds later her body sluiced into the water, hands first. She dove down and twisted her body so she'd hit the bottom with her feet. When she felt her shoes hit the sand below, she used the bottom as a springboard and propelled herself back to the surface.

When her head broke through, she greedily dragged in oxygen. A splash nearby made her open her eyes, and she held her breath until she saw Ronon's head bob to the surface.

"Dive and swim toward the marketplace – and be careful of the current!" Ronon told her.

She drew in another deep breath and did as ordered. As she propelled herself through the water parallel to the shore, she wondered how they were possibly going to explain their bedraggled appearance to the people at the hotel.

On the heels of that thought came another: would the assassin be waiting for them there?

_-To Be Continued-_


	11. Timeline

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 11/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 10-

_Timeline_

* * *

Ronon stumbled onto the shore and leaned over to cough up what felt like a gallon of ocean water. Teyla knelt in the sand a few feet away, retching up an equal amount herself. It had been hard, staying underwater all that time to swim a good ways down the beach to wash up here. Obviously, he hadn't been the only one to fail in his attempts to surface quickly to gulp in air – he usually got more water than he did oxygen.

"Come on," he said, voice raspy. "We need to go back to the hotel. It's dark." When he'd first come up on the beach, he hadn't noticed how dark it was. But now that he could concentrate, he saw the flare of orange on the horizon was gone – and the golden lights of the city were too far away for his liking. "Can you run?"

Teyla coughed some more, but accepted his hand to help her up as she nodded. He kept hold of her hand as they tore up the beach toward the safety of the lights. He knew a well-trained sniper could pick them off in the snap of the fingers; since they were still out of the sight range of the city, they would fall in the dark and probably not be found until morning. He deeply regretted leaving his gun at the hotel – but it wouldn't have done to go to the market, and then the beach, with a weapon in plain sight on his hip. He'd hoped his knives would be enough – how short-sighted he'd been.

Ronon was able to breathe a little easier once they reached he market. His bare feet, still wet and now caked with sand, made running painful – and it wasn't any easier for Teyla. But they didn't dare let up the pace as they jogged among the few late-night shoppers. Most of the lights were going off around them; it was closing time until sunrise tomorrow. He picked up the pace, but was careful to keep it slow enough that Teyla's shorter stride could keep up. He considered going straight to the authorities, but even with all his visits to Atlantis, he had no clue where headquarters were, and they didn't dare stop to ask for directions.

"We'll go to the hotel," he told Teyla. "From there, I'll call Sheppard. He'll get us in contact with the local authorities."

She nodded silently. Her face still looked a little green; he figured she was afraid to open her mouth, should she throw up again.

Those gathered in the lobby of the Royale Lantia stared with unabashed shock at the wet, bedraggled, barefoot pair that quickly made their way to one of the lifts. Ronon knew he and Teyla had to be sights, but did they deserve _that_ much attention? Another thought popped into his mind, dark and ugly. _Perhaps a pair of those watching eyes belonged to your enemy._

If only he'd been able to get a good look at the person's face. . . Undoubtedly, and admittedly, it was the same assassin who had tried to kill them on Athos. He'd missed a second time, but Ronon wasn't sure how long the guy's bad luck – or his and Teyla's good fortune with the Ancestors – would last.

The moment they reached the safety of their suite, Ronon checked the interior for any sign of their assailant. Nothing. He went over the whole place twice, checking the security of the doors and windows as he went.

"Nothing," he reported to Teyla. He'd left her by the door, her own knife (which she'd apparently been carrying in a sheath at her ankle, hidden by her loose pants) clutched tightly in her hand. "No one's been here." He coughed, wincing at how it rasped in his already sore throat.

"That's good." Teyla didn't sound much better than him. She slid her knife back into its sheath and reached for the light switch.

"Don't!" Ronon caught her hand before she could flip the lights on. "Let's not advertise we're back here, okay?"

Teyla looked surprised, but nodded. "We came in through the front door, and drew a _lot_ of attention in the lobby," she said hoarsely. "But whatever."

Good point. Still. . . "Better safe than sorry. Keep your knife with you." Ronon went to the tall, polished wood cabinet in the corner and withdrew two candles and an accompanying lighter. "Here." An ironic smile twisted his lips. "These are meant for romantic dinners in. But I've found that even modern technology is fallible – they come in handy when the power goes out, too. Or in situations such as these." He lit one and handed it to her. "This will help you see to dry off and change. Just don't get close to the window with it."

She nodded, then disappeared into her room. Ronon lit his own candle. Shielding the soft gold flame with his hand, he went to his room and shut the door. He set the candle down on his bedside table and went to the holoscreen in the corner. He checked it thoroughly to make sure it hadn't been tampered with, or bugged, before activating it.

The switchboard mistress downstairs smiled at him. Everything about her, from her cardboard smile to her bobby blonde hair irritated him. "Inside the hotel or out?" she questioned sweetly. If she was surprised at his appearance, she didn't show it. Then again, the story of his and Teyla's rather dramatic entrance had probably been told at least twenty times since they'd come in.

"Outside. Colonel John Sheppard, Apollo Towers, Apartment 453. Flag it urgent from Ronon Dex."

"One moment, please." The screen went blank.

While Ronon waited, he stripped off his shirt and went to get a towel to try at least to cut down on his general dampness. Only a minute after he'd sent the message, the screen chirped. He sat down in front of the panel, simultaneously pressing the answer button. "Dex."

Sheppard sat before his own screen, his black t-shirt splotched wet, hair dripping onto the towel around his neck. "Hey, what's up? I just got out of the shower. What's urgent?"

Ronon furiously rubbed at his own hair, trying to take a few pounds off his water-logged dreadlocks. "Teyla and I were almost killed down at the beach." He dropped this bombshell with perfect aplomb, then wondered if he'd lost his mind. How could he be accepting this so calmly, when he – and especially Teyla – had come so close to dying less than an hour ago?

John started violently. "_What_? Please tell me I didn't hear you right!"

"You did, and we were. Some guy in a mask tried to shoot us – we got the slip on him, though. Jumped into the high tide and swam up the beach. We came back here to the hotel, but I'm not sure how long we should stay here." Ronon tossed the towel aside, figuring his hair was as dry as he could get it with a towel.

"You shouldn't." Sheppard hesitated. "Look. I've got a couple of friends in the department. I'll have them come up to your room immediately. Just sit tight, okay? Don't turn on the lights. Lock all the doors. And whatever you do, make sure you've got _all_ your weapons on you. Don't answer the door for anyone. I'll come with the officers so you know they're legit."

"Sounds good."

Sheppard signed off. The screen once more went black, throwing the room into further shadow. Ronon waited a moment to let his eyes readjust to the darkness before swinging off the chair and going to finish changing. He tossed his wet clothes over the top bar of the shower, hoping they'd be dry by morning. They'd definitely have to be cleaned, though. He'd deal with that later, though.

A soft knock on his door. "Ronon? It is Teyla."

"Crap." Ronon grabbed the first pair of pants his hand came in contact with, and hoped Teyla hadn't heard him. "Hang on!" He tugged on his shirt, then opened the door.

The candlelight drew dark shadows under Teyla's eyes, leaching all the color from her face. She looked exhausted, though quite a bit drier. She held the candle in her left hand as her right shielded the flame. The sleeves of her loose top fell down to her elbows, revealing a long, ugly scratch down her right arm.

"Teyla!" He pulled her into the room, taking her right arm to see it better. "When did you get this?"

"I-I am not sure." She stared at the mark on her arm, seeming as startled as he. "I did not even realize it was there."

_She's in shock._ Ronon sat her down on his bed, then took her candle with him to search through the contents of the closet for the medical kit. "Sheppard will be here with two officers soon."

No response. He found the white box and pulled it down off the top shelf. _Stupid place to put it anyway – Teyla never would have been able to reach it if she'd been here alone._ Since that thought took him somewhere he didn't want to go, he shut it down and hurried back to the bedroom.

Teyla sat right where he'd left her on the edge of the bed, her eyes gazing off somewhere into the distance. "Teyla?" He knelt before her, smoothing his hand down her good arm. "Hey, you okay?"

She blinked a few times and smiled at him, but he could tell the gesture was automatic. "Thank you. Yes, I am fine."

He bit back his automatic, _No, you're not! _response. To keep himself occupied, he cleansed and wrapped her arm. "There you go. Good as new. It's deep, but not enough to need stitches. I think you'll live."

This time Teyla smiled sincerely, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you." Her left hand moved to curl around her right arm, as if to protect the cut from further injury.

Ronon disposed of the packaging for the cleansing cloths and gauze. Then he returned the med kit to the closet, pointedly putting it on a lower shelf – just in case. When he reentered the bedroom, he found Teyla curled up in a fetal position on his bed.

She was fast asleep.

Ronon considered blowing out the candle on the bedside table, but decided against it. She didn't need to wake to the dark. Instead, he blew out hers where it rested on the dresser and went to sit in the chair by the door to his room. It shouldn't be too much longer before Sheppard and his police buddies arrived. For a while he watched her sleep, wishing he could take away the wrinkled lines of worry across her forehead that lingered even in her rest. Her _troubled_ rest, if her moans and restless murmurings had anything to say.

A knock on the door drew his attention in that direction. Ronon drew his handgun from its holster at his hip and chambered a round before he went to look at the screen next to the door.

John waved at the camera positioned next to the door. Behind him stood two men, both of whom held up badges. "Can we come in?" Sheppard asked.

Ronon clicked the safety of his gun back on, twirled it twice, and slammed it back into his holster. He unlocked the door, hoping this business could be taken care of quickly. He hated to wake up Teyla, she looked so tired. . .

Opening the door, he stepped back into the room. He motioned for his friend and the police to enter the room, then closed it.

Sheppard shook hands with him first as soon as he turned around. "Sorry this happened," he said, looking truly embarrassed. Ronon knew it was because whoever had come into the city had to have gotten past him and the other Atlantian military personnel to do their dastardly deed.

"Not your fault," he reassured his friend.

John stepped back. "I'd like to introduce to you Detective Lorne, a friend of mine from the force."

Ronon shook hands with the much shorter man, who smiled a businesslike tight-lipped smile. He looked like he wanted to get straight down to business, no delays, no pleasantries, but was far too polite to protest.

"And this is Officer Cordain." Sheppard motioned to the other officer, whom Ronon hadn't gotten a good look at until this very moment.

For a moment a long-lost memory niggled at the back of Ronon's mind – he knew this man. Dark hair, tanned skin, a perhaps too-thin face with high cheekbones, almond-shaped dark eyes. . .

Then, with a jolt of surprise that slammed through him like lightning, everything fell into place, and he remembered. "_Tyre?_" he gasped.

_-To Be Continued-_


	12. Quarrels

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 12/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 11-

_Quarrels_

* * *

"What is going on out here?"

Teyla's voice, coming from the doorway, drew Ronon's attention in her direction. "Teyla!" In all the excitement, he was afraid to say he'd forgotten about her, asleep on his bed. "I'm sorry – did I wake you?"

She nodded and ran her hand through her mostly-dry hair. "But that is fine. Who are these people?"

Lorne smoothly stepped forward. "I am Det. Lorne, with Atlantis's police department. Pleasure to meet you."

Teyla smiled politely and nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Detective." She turned her curious gaze to the other officer. Ronon copied her movement, just as curious as Teyla to know this detective.

He shot Ronon a hesitant look, then bowed deeply in Teyla's direction. "I am Det. Cordain," he said. "We apologize for any inconvenience our presence here presents you, ma'am."

Teyla blinked, obviously not accustomed to being addressed so formally. "Thank you," she said. "Though it is no problem, if you catch the person who almost literally chased Ronon and me off a cliff tonight."

The detective slipped another glance in Ronon's direction, but offered no words.

Lorne spoke to fill the sudden silence. "If I may suggest, ma'am, going to pack your bags immediately. You and your associate can in no way stay here now."

Teyla smiled wryly and went to pack her bags.

Ronon spun to face Cordain the moment Teyla was out of sight. "What's this about?" he demanded. "You're supposed to be _dead_."

Tyre gave him a dry look. "Well, well," he said. "It's good to see you, too, buddy."

Sheppard looked back and forth between the two men. "Wait, wait, hang on just a minute. You two _know_ each other?"

Ronon wanted to smack his head against a wall. "Yes. We served in the same regiment on Sateda. But Tyre here disappeared in a Wraith attack off-world, along with five other soldiers." As hard as he tried, he couldn't keep the scathing note from his tone.

Still smiling, Tyre shook his head. "We were pinned down by the Wraith. The other four were killed, but. . ." For the first time, his smile faltered. He looked away, his expression suddenly hard and flat. "I escaped. I couldn't face going back to Sateda, knowing I'd failed my teammates so badly. So. . . I came here. I knew I'd be safe here, since Sateda and Atlantis are allies. But I laid low for a little while, just to make sure everyone on Sateda thought I was dead." He shrugged. "Then I got bored, changed my last name, and joined the Atlantian police department."

"That's it? You just packed up, left your old life, and started a new one here?" Ronon felt the anger bubble up anew in his belly. "You shirked your responsibility, your _promise_ to Sateda! Not to mention every code of ethics that's ever been drilled into our heads as soldiers!"

"And what are you doing here?" Tyre asked coolly. "Don't you have responsibilities to the Satedan army yourself?"

Ronon pulled up short at that rather bold accusation. "I _officially_ quit the army, to protect Teyla." He pointed to the room into which his soul mate had vanished. "But I suppose you wouldn't understand that, would you? It being a duty, and all."

Sheppard cleared his throat. "Whoa, whoa, boys. Hang on. Aren't we getting a little hot under the collar prematurely, now?"

"Stay out of this!" Ronon and Tyre shouted at the same time.

"Both of you, _stop it_!" Teyla stood in the doorway, bag slung over her shoulder. Her eyes, narrowed dangerously, pierced first Tyre, then Ronon, with looks fit to kill. "You're both grown men, and no matter what happened however long ago, you both _should_ know better than this! Squabbling like little boys!" She sounded disgusted.

Ronon had never seen her so angry. "Sorry," he and Tyre muttered at the same time.

Her expression didn't soften – much – as she advanced further into the room to stand next to Ronon. Her stance took on a distinctly defensive appearance as she addressed Tyre. "Why did you not return to Sateda, when you escaped the Wraith's clutches?"

"The Satedan courts would have kicked me out of the military anyway. So I just didn't bother going back." Tyre shrugged, like it didn't really matter.

"But you—" Ronon started, but Teyla elbowed him very sharply in the ribs and shot him another of her _Will you shut up before I _make_ you! _looks.

"You cannot run from your past forever – either of you." She nailed each of them with one more severe look before calmly turning her attention to Lorne. "What have you found out about the attack on Ronon and me this evening?"

The poor man blinked a few times, as if in disbelief that she could be so commanding. "Um – what?" Three more blinks, and he seemed to have himself back on track. "Oh. Right. Well, obviously, we haven't had _much_ time to investigate. . ." he hedged.

"You require an interview?" Teyla shifted her gaze between Lorne and Tyre, the latter of whom still seemed to be seething inwardly.

"Might I suggest something?" Sheppard interrupted to say. "Maybe it would be best if we conduct this interview somewhere else. As long as we're here, Ronon and Teyla are in danger. We should either take them to the precinct or _quietly_ relocate them somewhere else in the city."

Lorne mulled this over a moment. "Good idea. We should go ahead and get them relocated. Where should we take them?" He seemed to be talking mainly to himself.

Sheppard grinned. "If I may offer a suggestion, I think I have just the place. Trust me, it's safer than the Water City. And, while not as comfortable, it's the one place no one would think to look for them."

Four pairs of curious eyes stared at him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and smiled. "Elizabeth's dig."

Now they all looked at him like he was crazy. "What?" he demanded. "It's perfect! They can go undercover as new assistants for her. It's dirty, hard work, and out in the open, though Elizabeth has her digs protected with every spare person good with a gun that's not a crook that she can find." He drew in a deep breath and smiled. "It's perfect, don't you think?"

Lorne and Tyre swapped looks. "You know. . ." The latter trailed off musingly.

". . .It might be perfect." Lorne cracked a grin. "Looks like you two are going to become overnight archeologists, if that's okay."

Ronon and Teyla exchanged _what are we doing?_ looks of panic. Then they shrugged and turned back to Lorne, Sheppard, and Tyre. "Why not?" Teyla said hesitantly.

"This will be fun," Ronon muttered.

At the least, he could throw his own gun into the mix of protecting the dig. And, in that way, protecting Teyla.

But his conversation with Tyre definitely wasn't over. And, from the expression on his fellow Satedan's face, he agreed. Good.

This was going to be an interesting few days ahead of them.

_-To Be Continued-_


	13. Discoveries

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 13/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 12-

_Discoveries_

* * *

Elizabeth Weir, Ronon and Teyla soon discovered, seemed to be two personalities trapped in the same body. There was Elizabeth, John's friend: the sweet and funny lady they'd met in the marketplace, easy to get along with, easy to please. Then there was Dr. Weir, the archeologist, whom they now faced: okay to get along with, but _very_ hard to please.

"No, no, _no_! Why'd they ever let you into the University?" Weir grumbled as she leaned over one of the students on internship at her dig. "_Don't_ use your fingers to extract an object. Use first the soft brush, _then_ the toothbrush to clear away the rest of the dirt. These are pieces of Atlantian history you're damaging, here. You wouldn't _believe_ how much we could learn from just this tiny shard of pottery!"

Ronon drew his head back into the tent in which he and Teyla currently worked. "Boy, she's in a crabby mood today."

Teyla looked up from the pad of paper propped against her knees. "From the way your friend talked, she's _always_ this way on a dig."

"True." Ronon peered over her shoulder, cross-referencing her handwritten notes with those on file. "You missed one." He pointed to the gap in her notes, then to the corresponding mark on his file.

"Ugh." Teyla tossed the pen and paper aside to massage her temples with her fingertips. "This job is – is—" She appeared at a loss for words.

"Trying your patience?" Ronon supplied.

"Yes." Teyla drew up her knees to rest her head on them. "I understand her methods. It is always wise to have an inventory of all the objects she and her team harvest from this dig. But – does she have to be so. . ." She trailed off, brow wrinkled as she searched for the right word.

"Such a perfectionist?" Ronon questioned as he set his data pad aside.

Sighing, she nodded into her knees. "Yes. I suppose I should not be complaining. After all, this is one of the safest places in Atlantis to be. But – this is a very tedious job. And my hand is cramping." She held up her right hand to prove it.

Ronon shifted in the close space of the storage tent so he could reach out to take her small hand in his. For a moment he held the fragile-looking yet strong-feeling appendage, marveling at the size difference. Then, holding it between both of his, he gently massaged her palm and fingers. Briefly, she tensed beneath his touch. Then she relaxed, surrendering to his careful ministrations. He concentrated solely on his work, on the small hand he cradled in his. Her palm, warm and smooth, relaxed first, then her slender fingers, graceful and precise in her work, one at a time.

Somehow, sometime, she'd stopped hating him. They were definitely friends, he had no doubts about that. But. . . He wondered, could they be more? His mother and her father had thought so, many years ago. Now Ronon felt something, a spark beyond attraction, beyond mere passion – more like deep, unwavering, undying love – burning between them, especially in this small space with her hand in his. Did she feel it, too? he wondered.

Very slowly, Ronon raised his eyes to look at Teyla. She sat with her left arm wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her right knee. Her eyes, dark and fathomless, met his with the same curiosity he felt burning inside him. He wondered what she was thinking, if her own thoughts raced along the same lines as his. She was such an enigma: so mysterious, so beautiful. . .

Her lips parted as if to say something, but no words passed her throat. It almost looked like she wasn't breathing. His own breath hitched in his chest in response as that moment of anticipation grew and stretched between them. He stopped massaging her hand, but kept hold of it so he could raise it to his lips.

Ronon kissed her palm, and the already overwhelming love he felt for her grew a hundred times.

Teyla suddenly lifted her head from her knee. She swayed toward him slightly, her fire-filled dark eyes drifting from his gaze to his lips. Her palm slid out of his hand, but only so she could place it very gently against the side of his face. Splaying her fingers, she applied gentle pressure, pulling his face toward hers as her eyelids slipped shut.

Ronon lifted his own hands to her face, marveling at the smooth warmth of her skin. He stroked his thumbs along her high cheekbones, smiling as he heard her breath catch sharply. He swallowed back the sudden nervous flutter in his throat. _Ancestors, she's finally going to let me kiss her. . ._ He closed his eyes.

"Are you two done yet?" Elizabeth burst into the tent.

Ronon and Teyla froze.

Dr. Weir, eyes wide (with surprise or scandalized shock, Ronon wasn't sure), slowly backed away. "Apparently – not. . ." she trailed off. "I'm – sorry for – interrupting. . ." She fled.

Teyla shot him a pained glance. Slowly she pulled away. Ronon gulped as she moved, feeling empty without her touch. "Teyla. . ." he started to say. But he couldn't find the words to finish. He didn't know _what_ to say. Should he apologize? Should he declare his undying love for her?

Picking up her discarded pen and paper, she shifted around to sit opposite him, drawing her knees up again as if barricading herself behind them. "It is – fine," she said. She still sounded a little breathless. "We should – finish our work."

Bitterly disappointed, Ronon picked up his data pad. And, he realized with a start, he _still_ didn't know if she felt the same way about him.

**-Atlantis-**

Hours had passed since that kiss that almost-was, and Teyla's heart still pounded.

She lay in her tent, curled up on her side. Even though this archeological dig felt more like home than the lavish hotel, she found she missed the amenities – most of all, the _shower._ But now, even here, Atlantis was beginning to feel more like home than Athos. It was scary, in a way, to realize this. She now knew she'd begun to let go of her old life in favor of her new one. _With Ronon,_ her mind whispered in addition.

Teyla rolled onto her back and stared at the dull tan ceiling, black in the starless night. Somehow she'd stopped hating him, stopped seeing him as her enemy. He was most definitely her friend now. But. . . She wanted _more_ from him. Apparently he wanted more from her, too.

The letter Ronon showed her, the one from his mother, had spoken of her and Ronon being soul mates. At first she'd thought it a bunch of nonsense. There _was_ no such thing. Not in her experience, anyway. But now – well, now was a_ totally_ different story. _Now_, she believed in true love, in having a soul mate, believed with all her heart and being. And, more than even that, she believed that soul mate to be Ronon. How else could this whole unbelievable adventure happen, if not for the fact they were _meant_ for each other? Looking back, Ronon must have believed all this time. But she had doubted him, been mistrustful. She had good reason, at the time, but in hindsight she felt so ashamed. Because now, she loved him.

She wanted to go out: to go to his tent, shake him awake, and demand he finish what he'd started earlier this afternoon. But no – it was dark, and the camp was in lockdown. Everyone except those on patrol were obliged to stay in their tents till sunup. But she yearned to sneak out, like some foolish, love-struck girl, to the tent of her lover. . .

_I have been reading too many stories,_ she told herself. _Listen to me, sounding like some ninny. I should stay here, where it is safe. Ronon and I can – talk – tomorrow._ But she didn't _want_ to wait until tomorrow. She wanted to go to him now. The likelihood of their being interrupted would be greatly diminished by the lateness of the hour. . .

Teyla shook her head, pulling her covers tighter around her shoulders. _Foolish, foolish girl._ Trying to relax enough to sleep, she closed her eyes. But sleep would not come to her. She couldn't relax; couldn't shut off her brain; couldn't stop thinking about the overwhelming love in Ronon's eyes when he looked at her, as they were leaning in to kiss; couldn't help but remember the warm gentleness of Ronon's large hands as he massaged her smaller one. She felt safe with him. Warm. Like she belonged with him.

_Just sleep,_ she told herself. _Everything will work itself out in the morning_.

When at last she succumbed to sleep, she dreamed of how things could be resolved tomorrow. She would march right up to Ronon, declare how stupid she'd been, that she loved him endlessly, and demand he kiss her immediately. And if Dr. Weir and her entire archeology department witnessed the happy moment, _so be it!_

Her dreams were unfortunately shattered, however, at sunrise, when the camp was awoken by a scream of terror.

One of the guards was dead, and three of the most valuable artifacts were missing.

And, on the outside wall of Teyla's tent were scrawled the words _Death comes to those who desecrate the dead._

_-To Be Continued-_


	14. Fire

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 14/40

**-Chapter 13-**

_Fire_

Lorne, Tyre, and Sheppard showed up not long after the camp's abrupt awakening. Elizabeth had contacted them as soon as she was alerted of the situation.

Ronon hovered near Teyla, always orienting himself around her. Whenever she shifted, he shifted. When she relocated, he relocated. She was beginning to wonder if he thought this whole thing was meant for them, merely disguised as an attack on Dr. Weir's dig.

"C'mon. We need to talk to Sheppard." He casually linked his fingers with hers to pull her with him. Teyla swallowed back the flutter in her throat. His touch was relaxed, with no "we're a couple" connotations, but it felt like more to Teyla. . . Particularly after their _encounter_ in the tent yesterday.

_And what a time to be thinking about this,_ she thought sourly. _Your life may be on the line and you're thinking about how good it feels for Ronon to hold your hand. You ninny._ She swallowed back the good feelings, settling her features into a brave façade she really didn't feel.

Sheppard and Weir were in the midst of an argument when they got within hearing distance. Elizabeth seemed determined this was nothing more than an attack on her dig; John seemed determined this was something much bigger, meant as a warning to Teyla but disguised as an attack on Weir's dig.

"Guys!" Ronon half-shouted to get their attention.

The two started guiltily, shifting their attention to the newcomers as they quickly ended their argument. "What can I do for you?" Sheppard questioned briskly, suddenly all business.

"I agree with you," Ronon said without preamble. Then he hesitated, turned to Elizabeth, and smiled uncomfortably. "No offense, Dr. Weir."

She smiled amiably, if a bit absently. "None taken."

"You think this was meant for Teyla?" Sheppard's eyebrows shot up. "What gives you the idea?"

"Same things as you, I suspect," Ronon said grimly. "But the most – _likely_ piece of evidence presented is the threat was put on _Teyla's_ tent, instead of Dr. Weir's." He shot her another apologetic glance. "Again, no offense."

Weir laughed. "Don't worry about it. I'm not easily offended. You have a point, though. Since I'm the head of the dig, if it _had_ been an attack on it, the warning would have been on my tent," she mused.

Sheppard scrubbed his hand through his hair. "I _hate_ to think you're right. That would mean there's either someone on the inside, who _knew_ or found out you were here. Or – and I'm not sure whether to think this is better or worse – we're dealing with a very smart, very perceptive criminal."

"Maybe the person we're looking for is undercover on the dig," Teyla suggested. She shrugged when all three stared at her. "It made sense for us to go undercover here to stay safe. 'It will be the last place they'd think to look,' you said. Would that not be the same principle for _them_?"

John blinked rapidly a few times. "Wow. Have you ever considered being an officer, or a member of the military?" he asked in awe.

She smiled faintly and shook her head. As if she _already_ didn't have the enemy wanting her blood. . .

"I'll have to consult Cordain and Lorne on this," Sheppard said. He caught Ronon's look out of the corner of his eye. "I don't know," he responded. "It appears your friend – excuse me, _former fellow soldier_ – hasn't decided to be entirely straightforward with the Atlantian military yet."

Ronon grumbled under his breath but said nothing.

Sheppard continued as if there hadn't been an interruption. "Anyway, ultimately it will be their decision whether to leave you here or relocate you again."

"I hope we can stay," Teyla said. "I like it here." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ronon smile as his eyelid fluttered slightly in her direction. _Wink_. She rolled her lips together to smother a smile. _Perhaps that _is_ why I like it here so much. . ._

Sheppard stared blankly as Ronon grinned, Teyla rolled her lips to keep from grinning, and Elizabeth turned about five shades of red. "Okay," he said slowly, drawing the word out. "I'm guessing I'm _missing_ something here, but I also get the feeling I'm _glad_ I missed that." He shook his head. "Okay. I'll be back after I talk to them." He wandered off.

Elizabeth tucked her hands in her pockets and smiled shyly, her face still bright red. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "About – yesterday, I mean. I didn't mean to – well – I'm sorry if I caused any trouble. . ." She trailed off and bit her lower lip nervously.

Ronon looked at Teyla out of the corner of his eye, as if asking if it _was_ trouble. "It is fine," Teyla said smoothly. "The situation is. . ."

". . .Forgotten already," Ronon supplied.

_Is it?_ Teyla felt disappointment well up in her throat at those words. _Did that moment really mean nothing to him? Or is he just being nice to Dr. Weir?_ She wished she knew; however, it might be foolish to wonder.

Weir looked relieved. "Thank you," she said fervently. "I'm – glad." An awkward look entered her eyes; she smiled nervously and skittered off.

Sheppard passed her, turning his head to watch her hurry past as he kept coming. He shook his head. "Don't tell me!" he begged. Then he became solemn and said, "Lorne talked to headquarters. As far as they're concerned, this looks like an attack on the dig. They're sending out some men to protect the place. Which will make it safer for you, too."

Teyla swallowed nervously at Ronon's expression. "So we're staying here?" he sounded hopeful and irritated at the same time.

"Yes." Sheppard nodded. "Technically it's against both mine and Lorne's better judgment, but it's not either of our calls." He glanced over his shoulder, then took a step closer and leaned in to whisper, "If it makes you feel any better, I've got a couple of buddies willing to come with me to add extra protection." Teyla and Ronon hurriedly protested, but Sheppard waved them off. "It's fine. We do things like this all the time. We'll just be doing it off duty."

"That's that, then." Ronon stared after Sheppard as the colonel loped off in Weir's direction.

"I suppose," Teyla agreed. "Now what?"

Uncomfortable, Ronon avoided her eyes. "I don't know," he admitted.

**-Atlantis-**

After the police finished questioning everyone, Elizabeth and her workers were kicked off the dig for a few hours. Everyone decided to go down to the beach, since it was a beautiful day. They were trailed by a police escort, assigned to protect the entire expedition (and most particularly Ronon and Teyla) from any further danger. Sheppard stuck with Weir as the two struck up their earlier argument. Now they were cheerfully shouting at each other, seemingly perfectly content to argue.

"Odd, odd couple," Ronon said, shaking his head. "If I live a hundred years, I'll never understand them."

"I do not think we are supposed to." Teyla's voice sounded slightly tense.

"Something wrong?" Ronon asked, slightly squeezing her hand. Then he realized that _might_ be the problem. He hadn't let go of her – hadn't even really given her two moments to herself – since they'd found that warning scrawled on the side of her tent.

"No," Teyla said, too quickly. "I am fine." Her hand tightened on his in response.

He rolled his lips together to hide his grin. Even though there was always a slight risk to their being out in the open like this – even with police and military people everywhere – it was nice to just be like a normal. . . Well, he wasn't entirely sure _couple_ was the right word, but it was close enough to suit the situation for him.

The day stretched by with lighthearted fun. People laughed, ran, played games in the sand or in the water. Ronon and Teyla stuck close to the largest groups of people as per Sheppard's requests, making themselves as little targets as possible.

When at last they were allowed to go back to the dig, very few people went. Sheppard left with Weir and a few other of the most devoted workers, after telling Ronon and Teyla they could stay if they wanted – but only if they stayed fairly close to the group. They agreed.

As sunset approached, people began to head back for the dig in groups or couples. Ronon once more linked hands with Teyla and followed, but kept his distance. "Did you have fun today – despite this morning?" he asked. He'd tried his best to help her forget.

Teyla scooped her windblown hair out of her face and glimmered a smile up at him. "Yes, I did, thank you." She skipped slightly, her small, bare feet peeking out from beneath the hem of her colorful skirt. "It has been a mostly good day today."

Ronon dared slip his arm around her shoulders, holding his breath until he felt her relax into his side. She slid her own arm around his waist as they walked up the sand. She rested her head against his side with a sigh. "A good day, indeed," she murmured.

He quickly glanced around: far behind them, another laughing group of archeologists were coming with their escort; far ahead of them, another couple strolled along the beach. On the cliffs above them stood six or seven police sentries. They were safe, for the time being. Ronon tugged Teyla to a stop and turned her to face him.

She looked up at him curiously, pulling a few strands of hair out of her mouth from where they'd blown in when she turned. "Ronon, what—?" she started to ask.

Ronon didn't wait for her to finish. Before he could lose his courage, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

That's when _everything_ changed, in the instant blink of an eye.

A bright white light exploded behind his eyelids, blinding him with its power. Electricity seemed to crackle between them: fiery and intense. For the first time, he felt weak in the knees at the sudden, commanding attraction between them. What he'd felt before, in the tent, was _nothing_ compared to this. This was – was – there was no _word_ for how this felt. Though _amazing_, _fantastic_, and _magnificent_ might be close. . .

At first, he thought the popping sounds in his ears came from the intensity between him and Teyla. But when she pulled away, bringing his attention back to the present, he identified the sound for what it really was.

Gunfire.

_-To Be Continued-_


	15. Repercussions

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 15/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 14-

_Repercussions_

* * *

She couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't move. Couldn't open her eyes. Couldn't _stop_.

Emotion: intense, blinding, overwhelming emotion flooded like fire through her veins. Of their own accord, Teyla's arms lifted to enclose Ronon's shoulders. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his head down so she could reach his lips without standing on tiptoe. She felt dizzy, intoxicated. She was on _fire_. She lost herself in Ronon's kiss, feeling her control slipping away as she kissed him back with the same fervor with which he kissed her. The world around her vanished, plunging her into a fire-filled, electric-charged world that was all hers and Ronon's.

Thunder crashed in her ears. Suddenly frightened, Teyla ripped herself away from Ronon. _Gunshots!_ she recognized.

Ronon squinted at her for a moment, as if trying to figure out what was going on. Then, suddenly, he grabbed her shoulders, turning her under the close overhang of the cliff behind them. He shoved her down, falling atop her into a crouch with his arms wrapped securely around her, his body folded around her in protection.

Teyla, face pressed into Ronon's strong chest, still breathed raggedly through her mouth. Her entire body shook, but she wasn't sure if it was from fear of being shot at again or the adrenaline rush she'd gotten from that amazing kiss. "Ronon—" she whispered, entirely unsure of what she wanted to say.

"Shh," he cautioned her. "It'll be okay." His arms tightened around her, a small gesture that made her feel secure. As long as she was here, enclosed in Ronon's arms, nothing could hurt her.

"I do not doubt it," she whispered unsteadily.

A soft, low chuckle rumbled through his chest. Teyla swallowed hard. "What is happening?" she whispered.

All was quiet now, but Ronon still hadn't budged. "I don't know." She felt his head lift to look around. "I don't see anything. . ." he said uncertainly.

"Are you okay?"

Another soft laugh. "I'm fine, Teyla. You?" Suddenly his tone was anxious.

"I am unharmed." She allowed herself to relax against him, shoving back the fluttery feeling in her throat. _I want you to hold me like this, Ronon, forever. . ._ What a silly thought, considering someone was trying to kill them again. She and Ronon certainly picked the worst of times to be romantic with each other. Either that, or everyone else had _really bad_ timing. "Do you think. . ." She trailed off, unsure if she wanted to voice that particular thought.

"Those shots were meant for us? Maybe." Ronon relaxed his hold on her a little, but still whispered in her ear. "I hope not."

A dry chuckle from behind them made Ronon and Teyla look up. "Well, I see chivalry isn't dead after all," Sheppard said with a wry grin. "Coast is clear now."

Ronon stood, offering a hand to help Teyla stand, as well. "What was all that about?" He kept Teyla tucked close to his side as they moved off down the beach with the colonel.

"It was a few students from the University," John reported grimly. "The lookouts caught them today when they were taking their potshots. They were the ones responsible for the attack on the dig last night. They're history students – _superstitious_ history students. They kept going on about disturbing the dead and releasing curses." Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Bunch of lunatics. They're in the custody of the police now." He glanced at them out of the corner of his eye. "Don't worry about it," he assured them. "This didn't have anything to do with you, personally. To them, you were just two more archeologists. Apparently the placing of the warning on Teyla's tent was purely random."

Teyla melted into Ronon's side gratefully. "Thank the Ancestors," she and Ronon whispered at the same time.

Sheppard nodded in agreement. "You got off _very_ lucky this time."

"It can't last much longer," Ronon said mournfully. "This will have drawn attention to the dig."

"We need to leave Atlantis," Teyla stated quietly. She hated to say it, but it needed to be said.

"Yes," Ronon agreed.

Sheppard was quiet for a moment. "Let me know when you're ready," he said at last. "I'll fly you back to the city."

**-Atlantis-**

Ronon folded himself tailor style on Teyla's unrolled sleeping mat in her tent. They had a lot of planning to do; morning was the deadline. "Where do you want to go?" he asked her.

Teyla pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "I do not know." She rested her chin on her right knee, resisting the urge to cry. "I love it on Atlantis. I do not _want_ to leave," she admitted.

Reaching out, Ronon took her hand in both of his and gently squeezed the small appendage. "We'll come back when all this is over," he promised. "Don't cry."

"I am not going to cry." She pulled her hand away from his to run it through her hair. "Before we go wherever it is we decide – would it be okay with you if we go to Athos? I really miss my people. I do not wish to stay long, just enough time to make sure all is well with them."

Ronon nodded. "I think we can manage that." He hesitated, then smiled. "How'd you like to see _my_ world?"

Teyla blinked a few times, startled. "Sateda?"

Nodding eagerly, he leaned forward a little to persuade her. Her dark eyes were so sad. He longed to see them sparkle again. . . "Sateda is technologically advanced, like Atlantis. While it doesn't have the impressive city on the water, or long beaches, or hotels. . . We would be safe there. The Wraith wouldn't _think_ to look for us there. It's too obvious."

"The danger—"

"Sateda can take care of herself, Teyla. Our army is – impressive." He remembered the many battles they'd fought – and won – against the Wraith before. Other than Atlantis, Sateda was the only world where he felt truly safe enough to take Teyla.

"So is the Wraith's," she said softly. "And they are positively ruthless. They would not hesitate to destroy Sateda and all her people to get to us, no matter what measures they had to take."

Ronon hated to admit Teyla had a good point. "Okay – not Sateda, then."

"Unless you _honestly_ think we have a chance there. That there is _no way_ the Wraith would come." Teyla held his eyes with a furious intensity that made him swallow hard.

"I can't promise that." He wished he could, though. "But there is always a chance – no world is _completely_ safe from the Wraith. Some are just safer than most."

A small smile curled up one corner of her lips. "We shall hold Sateda in reserve," she conceded. Then she stiffened, her hand going to the hilt of the knife he knew she kept concealed in a sheath at her hip, beneath her light coat. Her eyes focused beyond his shoulder, to the closed doorway of her tent.

Ronon withdrew one of his own many concealed knives, listening intently. Fabric rustled, dim moonlight spread across the floor of the tent. . .

He pounced, grasping the intruder by his lapels so he could drag the guy inside. Quickly straddling him, he pressed the knife to his throat. "What're you doing here?" he demanded quietly. Then he recognized him. "_Tyre!_" Ronon resisted the urge to put more pressure on the knife. "You—"

"Wait!" Tyre begged. His eyes, dark and nervous, darted between Ronon and Teyla. "Please, please, hear me out! I promise I mean you no harm!" He held up his hands, showing they were empty of any weapons.

Ronon growled in frustration but backed off, subtly keeping Teyla mostly behind him. "What do you want, betrayer?" he asked.

Tyre sat up, all the while avoiding their eyes. "I'm more of a betrayer than you know," he whispered. "I didn't _completely_ escape the Wraith. They – planted me here. They're looking for someone – two someones, actually – you." His quickly glanced at them, then looked away again. "I didn't know at the time, please believe me. They wanted me to destroy these people – the only two in the galaxy who are a threat to them. I don't know why – they don't tell us things like that. But. . . I got the message I was supposed to go to a world called Athos to take care of these threats. I-I did."

Things were starting to click in Ronon's mind. "Why you—!" He nearly strangled on his curse in rage as he started forward again, hands clenched into iron-strong fists.

Teyla's small but powerful hand caught his shoulder. "Let him finish," she murmured.

Though he didn't want to, Ronon relaxed. But the murderous rage in his eyes didn't abate.

Tyre cringed. "I didn't know it was you, Ronon. Honest, I didn't. I just – it wasn't until you came after me, when I was trying to kill her—" a quick point in Teyla's direction "—that I recognized you. Then – I realized what was going on. But – no offense – I'm more terrified of the Wraith than you. I tried to finish my mission. But I couldn't. And then later, on the beach. . ." He lowered his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never meant to—"

"I should kill you right now," Ronon said. Only Teyla's now-gentle hand, still on his shoulder, kept him from completely losing his temper. "But I suggest you go straight to the Atlantian authorities and turn yourself in. And _never_ let me see your face again." He clenched his teeth together to try to keep himself from saying anything else he might regret.

"Ronon. . ." Teyla said softly.

He shook her off. "Leave. Now." He spoke through gritted teeth, his tone a snarl.

Tyre looked at them, then the door. "I really am sorry," he whispered. Then he vanished through the tent flaps.

Now Ronon allowed himself to calm a little. He let out his breath, turning to face Teyla as he sheathed his knife. "I can't believe it." He shook his head. "And to think I once called him a _Satedan_ – once mourned the loss of a _good_ soldier. . ." He put a sarcastic twist on the word _good_.

"The Wraith are very powerful," she whispered. Her gentle eyes filled with tears. "Many good men have been lost to them. Some lose their bodies – but others lose their very souls."

He reached out to touch her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't—"

"No. You did the right thing, I suppose. Hopefully he _will_ go turn himself in to the Atlantian authorities. But. . ." She trailed off.

It was the _but_ that bothered him. "We should – keep thinking."

Teyla nodded, smiling bleakly. They once more settled on her sleeping mat, across from each other, as they threw planet names back and forth. They talked all night, neither of them sleeping. They wouldn't have been able to, anyway, because of the stress.

When John came to pick them up when dawn broke, he gave them the news.

Tyre's body had been found early that morning, floating in the ocean. His chest was marked with a Wraith's feeding wound.

_-To Be Continued-_


	16. Fractured

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 16/40

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**

-Chapter 15-

_Fractured_

* * *

Teyla looked at the faces of all her new friends, a pang of sadness striking her heart. She had enjoyed her time in Atlantis, meeting these people and getting to know them, and now it made her sad that she had to leave. "It was a pleasure to meet you," she said, heartfelt.

Elizabeth stepped forward to hug her. She'd left her dig in the capable hands of her assistant to come to Atlantis, the water city, to see Ronon and Teyla off. "It was a pleasure to meet you," she said. Her voice hitched a little, and she sniffed. "I hope all goes well for you and Ronon," she whispered. "And thank you for all the help on the dig."

"Thank you for giving us shelter," Teyla replied. "And thank you, very much, for the well wishes," she whispered back.

John stepped forward to hug her awkwardly as Elizabeth moved on to shake Ronon's hand, also a tad awkwardly. "It was nice to meet you, Teyla," John said with a smile. "I hope you and Ronon can come back soon to visit."

"Thank you. I hope for the same." Teyla stepped back, smiling as happily as she could muster. "Thank you both, so much. Hopefully we will be able to come back soon."

Ronon easily shouldered their bags and put his arm around her shoulders. "Ready to go?"

"Yes." With one last wave to their friends, Ronon and Teyla stepped through the Ring to be deposited on Athos.

"Home again," Teyla said wistfully. "I wish we could stay."

Ronon dropped his bag next to hers beside the DHD. "Me too," he said. He linked his fingers with hers as they hiked through the dense forest to the settlement. "It's so quiet, peaceful, here. Life is so much simpler. It's – nice."

Teyla lifted a dangling branch so she could duck under it. "I have lived this way my whole life. The hustling chaos of Atlantis was an interesting experience, but it is nice to come back to the peaceful tranquility of Athos again." She reached up with her free hand to lift her hair off the back of her neck. "Is it just me, or is it unnaturally warm today?"

"I don't know," Ronon confessed. "I haven't spent much time here, really." This time he was the one who had to bend nearly in half to avoid a low-hanging branch.

A cold knot of fear settled in Teyla's stomach. "It is too quiet. Something is wrong." She tore her hand from Ronon's to run ahead of him. It wasn't hard for her to navigate the winding forest trail; she'd run up and down it her entire life. She heard Ronon pounding down the trail behind her, calling for her to slow down, but she couldn't. The terrible images flooding her mind wouldn't let her.

Teyla skidded to a halt when she reached the threshold of the trees. Her mind went completely blank, robbing her of all emotion and rational thought. She began to shake; her entire body went numb. She hardly realized when she crumpled to her knees. "N-n-n-o!" she stuttered. "No, no, no, no, _NO!_"

Ronon fell next to her, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly to shake her gently. "Teyla! Teyla, calm down."

"Calm _down_?" she gasped out. "L-Look! My village – it is _gone._ It – destroyed." She sounded crazy, out of control. Maybe she _was_ out of control. Crazy. She'd lost her mind, left it back on Atlantis.

That was worst of all. While she'd been romancing with Ronon, her entire village was being destroyed by the enemy.

"Teyla! Listen to me!" He pointed. "_Look!_"

She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes of tears as she _looked_. In the center of the tattered remains of her village – the collapsed tents, the fire-gutted shacks, the torn and broken tools – she saw. A single rod, made from the bole of a young tree, stuck straight out from the churned, muddy ground. Hanging from it was a sign, written in the hand-mixed black ink the Athosians made. _Most of us safe. Charin._ And, beneath, the glyphs of a world with which Athos often traded.

"What's it say?" Ronon asked softly.

Teyla remembered he couldn't read Athosian as the last of her terror left, and relief began to replace it. "I-It is from Charin. She said most of the village is safe – and then gave me the address of the world to where they escaped." She let out her breath in a half-laugh, half-sob.

"Come on." Ronon took her hands and gently pulled her up. "Let's go."

"No – wait." Teyla pushed him away. "I have to see. . ." She trailed off and ran back into the woods, in the opposite direction of the Ring. Now that she knew at least some of her people escaped, she needed to know how many were lost.

**-Athos-**

Ronon chased after Teyla, wondering where she could be going now. Even though the threat seemed to have come and gone quite a while ago, he didn't want to take the chance of Teyla being caught in some trap.

He found her a few minutes after she'd run off. She stood before a tall wooden pole, sheltered by the canopy of massive, ancient trees. Hesitating, Ronon watched as Teyla ran a slender finger down the small carvings in the pole. She murmured things under her breath – they sounded like names. Then he understood – this was a record of some sort of all the Athosians lost, over what had to be an incredible amount of time. The pole was very tall, and only half-filled with names. _This must be _hundreds_ of years of their history,_ he marveled. _She must be looking for the newest names. . ._

At last she turned to face him, tears in her eyes. "Thirty-seven," she whispered. "The tribe consisted of one-hundred-fifteen people. We lost thirty-seven." Suddenly her expression shuttered, and she drew her shoulders back. "Come. We must visit the survivors, and find out what happened here."

Ronon swallowed back the words begging to escape his throat. It seemed obvious, to him, what had happened. But Teyla needed closure, so he'd follow her to the world where her people now resided. They could not stay long, however, for fear of this happening again. . .

"We will not be able to stay long," Teyla said as she quietly input the address in the Ring's controller. "I ask only for enough time to speak to Charin."

"Okay." Ronon wished he knew something more to say, something deep and meaningful that would take away all her pain, all her guilt. But, if there was something, the words evaded him.

Two Athosians Ronon vaguely remembered from his last visit to Athos met him and Teyla at the Ring. They appeared to be on guard. Words of murmured welcome, then of mutual grief, were exchanged as they greeted Teyla. They shot him wordless glances, to which he dipped his head. He did not know what to say.

Teyla led him on a trek through the woods, which felt more like a humid jungle. He wiped sweat off his forehead, wondering if the Athosians could have found a world _more_ of an opposite of the original than this one. He felt like he was inhaling straight water. Atlantis, being a mainly beach-goers world, was plenty humid – but this was ridiculous.

"Teyla! She's back!" The children were the first to spot them when they happened upon the village. They swarmed around them: hugging, screaming, jumping up and down in excitement.

"Teyla! Thank the Ancestors, you are safe!"

Ronon stepped back, awkwardly watching as Charin rushed forward to hug Teyla. The children scattered, still screaming, to spread the word – not that the surviving villagers hadn't _all_ already heard their exclamations.

"What happened?" Teyla demanded. Ronon stepped a little closer to hear.

"Just a moment, my child," Charin said softly. She stepped around the young Athosian to stop before Ronon. She was much shorter; Ronon had to bend quite a bit at the waist to get low enough for the old woman to place her hands on his shoulders and touch foreheads. "Thank you, Ronon, for protecting her," she whispered. "We will owe you for the rest of our lives."

Ronon swallowed hard and looked away. He wasn't entirely sure what to say to that. "Thank you," he murmured. It seemed better than nothing.

Charin laughed softly. "She likes you now," she said. "That is good." She returned to Teyla. "The Wraith came not long after you left. Thirty-seven were lost. But these – we survived It is indeed a matter of celebration to see you and Ronon still alive. We feared perhaps they had found you, as well."

"Teyla!" The male voice – loud and furious – came from across the camp. "There you are, you Wraithbringer!"

Teyla took two steps back from Charin, who whirled angrily toward the voice. Ronon grasped the younger Athosian woman's shoulders when she stumbled into his chest.

"Kanaan!" Charin sounded scandalized.

"Stay out of this, old woman," the man snapped as he approached. "You left us, and only two days later the Wraith show up. _You_ brought them down upon us!" he accused Teyla. Then his gaze switched to Ronon. "And _you_—!"

"Leave him out of this!" Teyla stiffened, taking the two steps needed to bring her nose-to-nose with Kanaan. "It was _my_ decision, and _mine alone_ to leave Athos! I did it to _protect_ you – all our people! I apologize that I waited until far too late to take action, and blame me if you wish, but leave him out of this!" She pointed at Ronon without looking.

Kanaan seemed to be shuddering, with fury or indignation, Ronon couldn't tell. "You betrayed us all! You left when we needed you. You—"

Teyla interrupted him by punching him in the face. There was so much power behind it that Kanaan fell to the ground, thumping hard against the dirt. He held his nose, which gushed blood over his face.

"Left Athos, or left _you_?" she demanded. "You are not the man I thought you were, Kanaan. I do not have feelings for you – perhaps, at one time, but not anymore. I _apologize_ for what happened on Athos, but – _grow up_!" She spun, running off into the jungle with her hands clenched into fists.

Charin shot Ronon a look that said, _Go after her, please_. Then she looked down at Kanaan, shook her head, and slowly walked off to her tent.

Ronon prevented himself from looking at Kanaan with great effort. He followed Teyla, easily following the path she'd blazed through the dense brush. He knew she could hide her trail through the forest if she wanted, but right now she was being driven too hard by her emotions to think. He caught up with her nearly a mile away from the village. "Teyla!" He grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop.

Teyla beat her fists against his chest for a minute before giving up and giving in. She leaned her forehead against him, tears running down her face. "I did not _mean_ to bring the Wraith to Athos!" she cried. "I _tried_ to keep them away! I _left_ to keep them safe!"

Ronon wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on hers. "I'm sure he doesn't mean it," he said, trying to soothe her. "It was just such a shock, and—"

"No, he meant it. And he is right." She pulled away and wiped the tears away from her eyes. "Leave me alone, Ronon." She pushed him away. "I do not need your sympathy. You cannot understand. So just – leave me alone." She turned and walked away.

Ronon watched her go, longing to follow but knowing he shouldn't. She needed time to work through this. . .

. . .But he wasn't sure she _would._ And, with absolute certainty, he knew she hated him again.

That, more than anything else, hurt the worst.

_-To Be Continued-_


	17. Tropical Night

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 17/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 16-

_Tropical Night_

* * *

For Ronon and Teyla, there seemed to be only one option available. On one of his off-world exploration missions with the Satedans, Ronon's team had happened upon an uninhabited, tropical planet. That, he'd decided, would be a good place for them to hide.

They came out of the Ring into blackness. "Take my hand," Ronon said to Teyla. He reached out, taking her unresponsive hand in his. Since her murmured goodbyes to Charin on Athos, and an acidic half-hiss, half-growl aimed at Kanaan right before they came here, she hadn't spoken. He had the feeling he was facing a very long, very tense stay here.

The walk through the dark cave in which the Ring had been placed long ago, probably by the Ancestors, seemed relatively short. Before long they stood blinking in bright sunlight. "What do you think?" he asked her.

"You were smart, to bring us here," Teyla said softly. "The Wraith's ships cannot fly through the cavern."

Ronon let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders. "Well – that's _part_ of why I brought you here."

One of Teyla's eyebrows quirked upward impatiently.

He looked away from her intense eyes, out toward the endless land stretching before them. "I brought you here because – it reminds me of you," he admitted. "Beautiful, untamed. . ." He dared sneak a peek at her expression.

Her features softened, and she bowed her head. Her hair hid her eyes from him. "I am sorry I was rude to you – again," she said.

Ronon wondered if that meant she didn't hate him again. "It's okay," he said. "It was – tough, finding out about the Athosians. Even if most of them survived – those losses. . ." He trailed off and bit his lip. He didn't need to make it worse for her.

Teyla looked up, tears sparkling in her eyes. "Thank you for being so understanding," she said softly. Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "Now then – where are we going to stay?" Her voice sounded a bit stronger, and her shoulders straightened beneath his arm.

Ronon swallowed back the crooked grin he wanted to give her. He loved her more than ever at that moment, for being so strong. "Remember the tents I got on Atlantis? We're going to sleep in those."

Smiling bravely, Teyla shifted the bag casually slung over her left shoulder and motioned toward the trees ahead of them. "Lead on to the campsite, oh mighty jungle man," she said.

Ronon kissed her forehead, feeling like he was about to burst. Had he _ever_ done something good enough to deserve this wonderful woman? "Follow me," he said simply.

They spent most of the rest of the afternoon investigating the place. The jungle, though untamed, was beautiful. Bright spots of blue, red, yellow, orange, purple, and many other colors interrupted the green, just often enough to keep the green from being horribly monotonous. Animals slipped through the trees around them, snickering at the newcomers in chirps and growls. Above them, birds in colors as bright as the flowers darted from tree branch to tree branch, intently examining the two interlopers.

"The sun will set soon," Ronon said. "We'd better make camp."

Teyla, a bright blue flower nestled in her soft hair, laughed softly at a small bird that had come to perch on her shoulder. Ronon paused for a moment to watch her with the creature as she gently stroked a finger over its brilliant purple and blue feathers. The bird chirped softly and leaned into her touch. "You have a gift with animals," Ronon said softly after it winged away and she joined him.

She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. "It came to me," she murmured. "It would have felt wrong to scare it off. Besides, I wanted to know how soft its feathers felt."

Ronon wrapped his arm around her shoulders again. "I love you," he sighed.

Teyla rested her head against his chest, arm around his waist as they walked. "I love you too," she said softly. "I – really do." It sounded like she'd just discovered that fact.

He tipped his head back to grin up at the skies. It was nice to know she _didn't_ hate him again, after all.

**-Campsite-**

Once they got the tents set up and a fire started, Teyla warmed even more to their surroundings. Born to a nomadic people, she was accustomed to living this way. She admitted to her deficiency as a cook, but she did pretty well with soup over the campfire.

"This looks like the best option we have, as far as a defensible position," Ronon commented as they finished their late dinner. "It's so quiet here we can hear something coming long before it gets here. We're also far enough from the Ring that we have plenty of time to vanish before whoever or whatever it is finds us. But we're still close enough to make a quick escape if we have to." Ronon tossed another branch in the fire, watching thoughtfully as the flames flared and sparked. "Then again, we shouldn't _have_ to. Other than the plants and the animals, we're the only things alive on this planet. It shouldn't be of any interest at all to the Wraith."

"Except for the fact _we_ are here," Teyla corrected. "We are obviously a prime target of the Wraith's."

Ronon wrinkled his nose and tossed another stick into the fire. "There's no way there can be traitors here," he said certainly. "The animals and plants can't talk."

Teyla leaned back against the fallen log behind her, cradling her mug between her hands. "Hmm," she said noncommittally.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ronon wondered aloud.

"You have much to learn about how women communicate," Teyla sighed. Then she paused, shifting into a crouch as she put one hand up. "Shh. Do you hear that?"

Ronon froze, listening hard. He heard the normal jungle hoots and hollers he and his Satedan teammates had heard when they'd spent the night on this planet; the wind through the leaves; rustling in the underbrush as an animal skittered away from the unfamiliar scent of humans. . .

There! "What was that?"

Teyla tipped her head back as she pointed upwards. "It sounded like it came from the sky – or perhaps the treetops," she whispered.

Ronon shrugged. "There are a number of birds and other animals that live in the treetops," he said uncertainly.

"It sounds – _bigger_," she protested. "A _lot_ bigger."

They went silent again, listening for the sounds to repeat themselves. Nothing.

Teyla returned to her earlier position. "Oh well. It might have been my imagination. This is an unfamiliar planet, so I am probably hearing things."

"No," Ronon disagreed. "There _are_ predators here. But they only come out at night, and—"

"It _is_ nighttime!" Teyla hissed.

"_And_," Ronon continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "the ones we encountered seemed to be afraid of the fire."

"If they are hungry enough, the fire will not deter them," Teyla warned. "Have you never been hunting?"

Ronon bristled. "Of _course_ I've been hunting. Every respectable warrior has been hunting."

Teyla rolled her lips together, deliberately turning her gaze from him back to the fire. He felt slighted. "What?" he demanded.

"Nothing," she responded. This time she actually smiled.

Ronon slumped a little, crossing his arms petulantly. "You know, if _this_ is how women communicate, I don't _want_ to understand."

Teyla laughed softly. "You—" She stopped and looked away again. Ronon was _almost_ sure he saw a blush on her cheeks.

"What?" he asked, leaning forward. He looked at her from beneath his lashes, trying for his best injured look.

"Stop that." Teyla looked away, curling her legs up to her chest to wrap her arms around them. "I cannot be serious as long as you do that."

"Good." Ronon shifted a little closer and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Come on, tell me?" he begged.

Teyla pushed him away, but the motion was half-hearted. "You are – _adorable_ when you pout." She quickly scooted out of his reach, laughing at his expression.

"I do not _pout_," Ronon protested.

Teyla's laughter grew in volume. "If you do not pout, what are you doing now?"

"I am – having a manly moment of aggravation," he grumbled. It was _amazing_ how Teyla could make him feel so – different, so unlike himself but like he wanted to be, all the same.

Teyla, who'd just gotten her expression back under control, began to laugh again. "Oh, thank you, Ronon," she said, gripping her sides. "I – needed a good laugh."

"So happy to be of service," he muttered. But he smiled and ruined the impression. "Me too," he admitted.

_Whoosh!_

Teyla leaped into her crouch again, happy expression gone. "There it is again," she whispered.

Ronon hushed her. He moved into the woods, almost out of reach of the fire's light, waiting for his eyes to adjust. His hand flexed around the grip of his weapon as he watched the sky, waiting for the sound to repeat itself.

He hadn't heard her approach, but one moment Teyla wasn't there and the next she stood next to him, knife in hand. "Do you see anything?" she whispered. Her breath blew warm and sweet against his arm.

"No. Shh." By now his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, enabling him to see by the light of the stars sprinkled across the midnight velvet lining of the night sky. Nothing, not even a dark cloud. "Whatever it was, it must be go—"

Ronon didn't have a chance to finish his sentence. A great, horrific crash sounded above them, and a rush of hot air blew down upon them in a great, deafening roar. He didn't take the time to think, to consider what to do. Ronon grabbed Teyla's hand and dragged her after him through the woods.

The entire woods came alive. Birds, disturbed from their nightly slumber, shrieked and took to the skies. Smaller ground animals fled, not even bothering to make noise beyond that of their crashing through the underbrush. And, nearly drowning out those sounds, came the whistling roar, accompanied by a smashing, crumpling noise as the something they'd heard earlier crashed through the trees after them.

Then came the sound: an unearthly scream, like all the banshees of the underworld had grouped together in a horrific chorus. The sound made Ronon's heart stutter, and his breathing was stolen for a moment. Next to him, Teyla let out a half-startled, half-frightened cry.

Ronon had never felt more terrified in his life. _This_ he didn't remember from his last visit!

Another whoosh sounded, directly behind them. That was followed by an additional rush of hot, rancid air that nearly knocked them both off their feet. "Left, left!" Ronon cried. He shoved his body against Teyla's, forcing her to go that direction. He hoped he hadn't gotten turned around in the darkness, and that they were headed back to their camp.

Something struck him in the back. He grunted, reaching out to pull Teyla into his arms as they crashed to the ground. He quickly situated himself over her, protecting her as he felt the skin of his back split open and spill blood as incredibly sharp claws raked across him. . .

_-To Be Continued-_


	18. Jungle Heat

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 18/40

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-Chapter 17-

_Jungle Heat_

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A horrendous rustle, then a thud that shook the ground, heralded the end of the attack. Ronon blinked away the haze of pain over his eyes, scrambling to his feet as he pulled Teyla up with him. "Go, go, go!" he yelled. He shoved her in the direction of their campfire, which they could see flickering through the trees to their left. Teyla gripped his hand, dragging him after her as she ran.

More thrashing in the woods behind them made a fresh burst of fear explode in Ronon's gut. "Faster!" he cried. "It's coming around for another attack!"

Teyla dragged him through the last of the trees, into the welcoming circle of the firelight. Another unearthly scream echoed through the woods behind them. Ronon cringed, dropping to the ground with Teyla again. His vision suddenly filled with something black, with sharp talons at least twice the size of his hands. And the whole thing was _huge!_ The light of the fire disappeared beyond the bulk of its lower half, and above – far above, _impossibly_ above! – the entire sky seemed, for a moment, to vanish.

Then, with another other-worldly shriek, the creature disappeared into the sky.

For a moment Ronon didn't believe it'd left. He lay curled around Teyla's slight body, which shook under him. He felt his own limbs begin to quiver, as the adrenaline wore off the immense pain set in. Groaning, he rolled off of her; immediately kept on to his other side when his back touched the ground. "Ugh," he groaned. "Are you okay?" he asked immediately after.

"Yes, I am fine. But you are not!" Teyla knelt next to him, gripping his shoulder to hold him still as she examined his back. "Some of these are very deep, but I do not believe they require stitches." She helped him stand, then limp over to the fire, where she settled him atop an old trees stump. "Take your shirt off," she commanded. She knelt beside her pack, through which she immediately began to search.

Ronon raised his eyebrows at her back, thankfully unmarked. "Why?"

"You require medical attention. Those lacerations will become infected if I do not attend to them immediately." She raised her head to squint at the sky, and Ronon saw the hand closest to the firelight begin to quiver again. "What was that?" Her tone was only slightly breathless.

"Hopefully nothing that will return," he said grimly. "Apparently it's afraid of the fire, though. We'll have to make sure to keep it blazing through the night." Wincing in pain, Ronon shrugged out of his shirt. He held it out in front of him for a moment, mourning the loss of a perfectly good piece of clothing. The material, ripped to literal bloody shreds, was beyond salvaging.

Teyla poured a cup of warm water from the pot by the fire before mixing something into it. "Drink this," she said softly.

Ronon took the proffered cup, cringing at the yellowish tint and horrid smell. "Not _this_ stuff again!" he moaned.

"Be quiet and drink. It will help stave off infection." Teyla shoved his hair over his shoulder. "Turn more toward the fire – I cannot see."

"Are you trying to be bossy?" he asked while obeying.

"I am trying to keep you from dying from your foolishness." Teyla's tight voice contrasted her gentle hands as she gently dabbed at the injuries on his back.

"What foolishness?" he demanded. Ronon made a face at his tea, seriously considering dumping the rest of it into the fire. Maybe Teyla wouldn't notice.

"If you pour that out, I will fix more," she threatened. Ronon sighed and went back to sipping the foul-tasting brew.

"What foolishness?" he asked her again.

Teyla worked quietly for a while, seeming uninterested in answering. Finally, though, she spoke. "You and your – your – _chivalry!_" she said, teeth gritted.

Ronon cringed as she liberally poured liquid disinfectant over his back. "I was trying to save your life," he growled.

"I do appreciate your actions," she replied evenly. "I merely wish to state that you have taken far more than your share of the trouble aimed at us."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time that creature wants to eat you," he said, motioning to the sky.

"I really wish you would." Teyla began pressing against his back, and he unconsciously cringed away from her. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Hold still."

"_You_ hold still," Ronon grumbled.

Teyla made a strangled sound that sounded oddly like muffled laughter. She took him by the tops of his shoulders – the only part of his back that had escaped the creature – and sat him up straight again. "If you remain still, I promise this will go quickly."

"And painfully," he muttered. But he obeyed, making himself sit still as she pressed clothes soaked in more disinfectant to his back. Then she wound bandages around his ribs and chest to hold the pads in place. Leaning over his shoulder, she looked him in the eye and asked, "How does that feel?"

Ronon leaned forward the inch between their lips to kiss her. "Much better now," he murmured.

Teyla abruptly stood, and Ronon nearly fell on his face. "Hey!" he complained.

"You taste like that tea," she replied. Once more, that strangled sound met his ears.

He scowled. "Are you laughing?"

In reply, she chuckled. "Yes," she admitted.

"Don't you complain. _You're_ the one who made me drink it." Ronon wondered if it was the tea or Teyla's nearness that made him so – giddy.

"Oh, what did you do?" Teyla suddenly knelt in front of him, her hand reaching for his head. He instinctively jerked away from her, warily reaching out to push her hand away.

"Stop it." Teyla pushed his hand away, using her other hand to brush across his forehead. "You must have hit your head when you landed," she murmured. Her dark, concerned eyes glittered softly in the firelight. "There is dried blood all over your forehead and temple."

Or, Ronon mused, maybe it was the conk on the head he hadn't realized he'd received. "Doesn't even hurt," he assured her.

"Humor me," she said, exasperated. She was already at work cleaning off the blood so she could disinfect and bandage his head, too.

"It can't be that bad," he protested. "It doesn't need a bandage. It doesn't even _hurt_."

"You will feel it in the morning," she assured him darkly. "When you wake, you will have a lovely bruise, here." She gently touched his brow, directly over his right eye.

"Not even tender."

Teyla shrugged. "Do not come to me when it gets infected," she said. She started to stand, then paused when Ronon took her by the shoulders to sit her down again.

"No," he sighed. "Go ahead and bandage it up, if it's that bad."

Teyla smiled, happily obliging. "Was that so bad?" she asked a moment later. She didn't wait for an answer, instead going straight back to her med kit to pack it away.

"No," he said softly. "Just as long as I know you're okay."

She paused, her box of medical things halfway into her pack. He saw her quickly reach up to swipe at her eyes with her free hand as she slid it the rest of the way in. "I am _sorry_," she said without turning.

Ronon took her shoulder to turn her gently toward him. "Look at me," he said softly. He cupped her chin to tip her head up. "C'mon, it wasn't _that_ bad," he said. "I'd take a million scars over losing you."

Teyla pushed his hand away, once more furiously rubbing at the tears sparkling on her cheeks. "That is the _point_," she said. Her voice broke on the last word. "What if I do not _want_ you to? What if I do not believe—" She stopped, looking at him with eyes that said she was afraid she'd said too much.

"That you're worth it?" Ronon quietly finished for her. He took her face in his hands, pulling her face forward so he could kiss her forehead. "Haven't I told you, many times, how much I love you? How _much_ you mean to me?"

"I can take care of myself," she said crossly. But her temper seemed to be losing its edge. "I do not want one of these times you save me – to be the last." She bit her lower lip, looking away in shame.

"Next time I'll let you do the saving," he told her.

Teyla sighed. "This is not a joke, Ronon."

"I know." Ronon brushed his hand over her hair, then tucked a loose lock behind her ear. "Didn't you pay attention to my mother's letter? Isn't it_ already_ enough that you're meant to destroy the Wraith, single-handedly? I don't think it'd be fair to you to have to keep having to save yourself." He cupped her face in his hands, smoothing away her tears with his thumbs. "C'mon," he said softly. "Let me do this, please. Let me feel useful."

Teyla reached her own hands up to rest against his neck. "All right," she conceded.

Ronon leaned toward her a little more, a smile twitching at his lips. _Definitely the drugs,_ he thought to himself. "In the meanwhile," he said softly, "I can think of another way I'd _like_ to be useful to you. . ." He trailed off and leaned forward to kiss her.

A chill shuddered up his spine when her lips touched his – that's when he remembered. Pulling away, he sheepishly looked away from her questioning gaze and asked: "Where's my shirt?"

_-To Be Continued-_


	19. TLC

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 19/40

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-Chapter 18-

_TLC_

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_

Clump. Clump. Clump. Clump.

Ronon groaned. Without opening his eyes, "What time is it?" he mumbled.

"It is approximately two hours after sunrise. Are you finally awake?" The teasing lilt to Teyla's voice made Ronon's heart sputter.

"No," he said contrarily. "What are you doing, making all that noise?" He finally cracked open his eyes, lifting his head from his pillow. His entire body ached – whether from the attack last night or sleeping on his stomach to protect his back, he wasn't sure.

Teyla sat cross-legged by the remnants of their fire, her back propped against the fallen log behind her. She held a small stone vessel in one hand, and a small wooden mallet in the other. There was something green and mushy inside the stone bowl. "I am mixing this," she said calmly.

"That had better not be breakfast." Ronon allowed his head to drop again. "It looks disgusting."

"Then you should be happy. It is not breakfast. It is an herbal mix to spread on your back. Since you despise the tea, I am having to use other methods to keep you from dying of fever and infection." Teyla calmly went on with her mixing.

"So, what's in there?" Ronon asked curiously.

Teyla shot him a look, a playful smile curling up one corner of her mouth. "Are you sure you want to ask me that question?"

"Good point. Never mind." Mindful of the lacerations on his back, Ronon carefully sat up, then very cautiously reached for the teapot sitting at the edge of the small fire. "This isn't that stuff from last night, right?"

Teyla laughed. "No. It is normal tea."

"Good. Thanks." Ronon poured himself a cup and sipped at it. "Do I want to know what that stuff is for?"

"It will form a sealant over your back. The herbs will work together to kill anything already in your wounds to cause infection, while at the same time keeping out anything that might come in. It even reduces scarring. We will have to clean it off and reapply it once or twice a day," she finished.

"Hmm." Ronon rummaged in his bag for a piece of fruit. Taking a bite of the apple he found there, he watched her work. "Thank you for doing this for me."

Teyla smiled again. "You are welcome. I am beginning to grow accustomed to having you around. It would be – very lonely without you." Her tone grew a little sad at the end.

"Life would be pretty lonely without you, too." Ronon felt the corners of his lips turn up in an unaccustomedly soft smile as he caught her eyes with his. They held gazes for a long moment, neither of them willing to be the first to look away. The moment drew out – intense and wonderful. This time, there was no one around to interrupt them.

At last Teyla broke their eye contact. She looked down into her bowl. "I think it is ready," she told him, her low voice more than a little unsteady.

Ronon finished off his apple, then quickly gulped the rest of his tea. "How do you want to do this?"

"I will have to remove your bandages first. Then, you will have to lie down on your stomach." She came to kneel next to him, setting the bowl on the ground next to her. A very strong, very _vile_ odor drifted his way from it.

"Ugh," he groaned. "If nothing else, that stuff will keep those creatures away because it smells _so bad_."

Teyla briskly but carefully went about the business of pulling off his old bandages. "Good," she said. "In that case, I do not have to be concerned about you getting yourself hurt again."

Ronon eyed her expression. "Are you mad at me?"

"No." Teyla met his eyes steadily and smiled softly. "How can I be?" She looked away, dipping her fingers in the salve. "Please lie down now. This will be cold – and it might sting a little."

"Thanks for the warning." Stretching out on his stomach once more, Ronon closed his eyes as Teyla began to spread the salve gently across his back with her small fingers. She was very careful, always making sure she didn't press too hard, particularly in the areas where his wounds were the deepest. He relaxed beneath her touch, wondering at how little pain he felt. He believed there was some medical term for it – _euphoria_ sounded about right.

Teyla pulled her fingers back at his deep sigh. "Does that hurt?" she asked anxiously.

"No," he murmured reassuringly. He unconsciously hitched a little closer to her. Teyla hesitantly began to rub the smelly green stuff into his wounds again.

"We will need to replenish our supplies soon," she said conversationally. "I am almost out of tea herbs – no, not those, the other kind. And it will not be long before we will be out of bandages."

"What are you saying?" he mumbled. "That I'm using up all our supplies too fast?"

Teyla laughed, and the sound warmed his heart like no other. "Maybe – a little." She smoothed the last of the goop across his lower back, then reached for the water and towel she had handy. "It would give us an excuse to return to Atlantis – for a little while, at least. Even if we cannot _stay_."

Ronon cracked open one eye. "When do you want to go? When do you need the new supplies?"

Wiping her hands on the towel, Teyla looked at him thoughtfully. "You should rest today. – Sit up, please, so I can rewrap you. – How does tomorrow sound?"

"Fine." Sitting obediently, Ronon cringed involuntarily as Teyla wound new bandages over the green salve. "Ouch."

"Sorry." Teyla sank back on her heels. "Are the bandages too tight?"

"No. They're fine." He reached for his shirt, which Teyla picked up and handed to him. Giving her a crooked smile, he pulled it on and tried not to wince. His wounds were_ definitely_ sore this morning, not that he'd tell _her_ that. She'd pour more of that nasty tea down his throat. "Thanks."

Teyla looked away, shyly tucking her hair behind her ear. "You are welcome."

Ronon reached out, cupping her cheek in his hand. Turning her face so he could look her in the eye, he smiled again. "No, really, I mean _thank you_, Teyla. For _everything_."

He saw her convulsively swallow. Her dark eyes skittered up to meet his, then down to his lips, then back up to his eyes. "I-I – do not—"

"Shh." Reaching out to cup her face with his hands, Ronon closed the little distance between them and kissed her. Once more the feelings hit him, exploding through him from deep inside him: an electric shock coupled with a very powerful, very potent sense that he and Teyla _belonged_ together. The way his blood pounded and surged with every hard, fast heartbeat, he expected thunder to clap overhead at any moment, an entire storm brought on by the fiery chemistry building between them.

"Um—" Teyla looked dazed when he very, very reluctantly made himself pull away. "I – um." Her lips parted again, eyelids still half-closed.

"Yeah." After tucking the other side of her hair behind her ear, Ronon left his hand on her neck so he could stroke his thumb across her smooth cheek. "Teyla, _mi nanga,_ I love you."

_-To Be Continued-_

_**And so, the three little words have come into play at last! Just a little explanation – **_**mi nanga**_** is, in my little world and this little AU, Satedan for **_**my soulmate **_**(it is actually taken from a song, called "Dela," I really recommend it – I think it's awesome for Ronon & Teyla!). I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading!**_


	20. Changes

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 20/40

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-Chapter 19-

_Changes_

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I love you.

Ronon's words went round and round in Teyla's head as she made her way through Atlantis' bustling marketplace. With her hand securely in his, and a military escort headed by John Sheppard guarding them, she couldn't feel any safer.

"What's next on the list?" Ronon, who could easily look over the heads of almost everyone in the market, waited attentively for her to tell him what to find.

"There is not much left. I believe our next stop needs to be the fruit stand. I miss Charin's fruit salad."

"Fruit stand it is." Ronon motioned for their shadows to follow them as he wove in and out through the crowd. They were trying to keep a fairly low profile since they were back on Atlantis – for the day, at least. But so far they'd drawn a lot of attention, which made them both a little nervous. They needed supplies, and Atlantis was the safest place in the galaxy on which to purchase their required items. But they had hard-learned experience behind them to demonstrate how "safe" could switch to "unsafe" very quickly.

Teyla wondered why it'd been hard to say – let alone think – those three little words before Ronon said them to her. She knew deep inside her she loved Ronon – she'd known that for quite a while now. But it was hard to admit, even to herself, the truth. Until Ronon kissed her that way, and whispered his love to her in such a soft, wonderful way, she hadn't been sure she'd ever be able to tell him how much she really did _care_ for him.

But caring was different than loving – while she'd been thinking _I care for him a lot_, her heart had been screaming _I am so in love with him!_ Now that they'd admitted their feelings, Teyla was seriously looking forward to seeing where their already exciting romance would take them next.

"Here we go – fruit stand." Ronon kissed her temple, letting go of her hand. "Stay here – I'll be right back." Before Teyla could protest, he'd disappeared into the crowd with two soldiers following him.

Teyla sighed, shaking her head. "Sometimes I wonder about that man," she muttered.

"It's okay," Sheppard assured her. He patted her shoulder awkwardly. "He's always been a risk taker – but I'm sure he'll calm down a bit now that he has you."

Teyla quickly reached for a piece of fruit across the cart so her hair would fall across her face and hide the blush she felt blossoming on her cheeks. "I am sure," she said softly. Each piece of fruit she handed the cart vendor went into the leather bag she'd brought with her for this purpose. It would be nice to eat fruit again – she and Ronon had eaten the last two pieces for breakfast the previous morning with too-crispy toast. "I wonder where he went this time," she mused aloud.

Sheppard shrugged, helping her pick over the fruit when she told him what to look for. "With Ronon – who knows?" He looked like he wanted to say something more, but bit his lip and turned away.

"Do you know something I do not?" Teyla asked him.

"Probably not," he said hesitantly. "I do know Ronon's really freaked because you're here. He would rather you stayed on that jungle planet – even though I heard about the _encounter_ you had the other night."

Teyla groaned. "We keep hearing it screaming and fluttering around all night. We have to make sure to keep the fire bright and hot so it won't try to invade our camp."

Now Sheppard looked _really_ guilty. "What have you and Ronon been cooking up now?" she demanded.

"Well. . ." John sighed and shook his head. "I swear, if you tell him I told you this – he'll kill me. But I'm going to return with you, with a couple of other soldiers. I don't know why – but these orders came straight from the Governor of Atlantis. And you don't say 'no' to him."

Teyla looked down at the coins in her hand, suddenly forgetting how many she needed to pay for the fruit. "Oh." She felt awful, exposing John and his men to more danger. "But we left Atlantis to keep you and your people safe. Why—?"

John smiled apologetically and plucked the required number of coins out of her hand. Handing them to the vendor, he took her change to give back to her. "I think it's a bunch of superstitious hooey, but – there are some people here who believe the Ancestors in the city have – certain _knowledge_. Sometimes I wonder – but for the most part, this stuff can be explained by their contacts on so many worlds. Regardless, the Ancestors in the city _do_ know things the rest of us usually don't. They know something about you and Ronon, too – but they won't talk. Just said you're both worth protecting. I agree, you know."

Teyla wanted to go crawl into a hole somewhere and hide until the embarrassment wore off. "So you're coming back to the jungle with Ronon and me?"

"Apparently so." John tipped his head to the side. "Elizabeth is coming too. She wants to do some excavation there. Since the planet is uninhabited – for now, at least – it's fair game to any archeologist interested."

Teyla wanted to protest. Not only would having all those people in the jungle put _them_ in danger, too – it would cut down on the time she and Ronon had. Now that she _knew_ for sure he loved her, and she loved him back, she didn't want anyone or anything to take away time they had to spend together.

Now she felt like a selfish heel. There was so much more to think about – but she didn't want to. "Thank you," she said instead. "I cannot say how much Elizabeth will find – but I wish her all the luck."

John kept one hand casually resting on the grip of his gun as his keen eyes scanned the crowd. "She's pretty enthused about it," he told her. "She just finished up her other excavation, and her job at the University ends today, since classes will be out for the summer now. And she has no other pressing concerns to attend to at the moment. In fact, she was looking for another excavation. Sometimes areas are restricted – another of those crazy rules the Ancestors make up. Other times, the sites have already been reserved for other archeologists – and, as is becoming more the case lately, there's already so much that's _been_ excavated."

Teyla pushed stray strands of hair behind her ears. "I can see why she would want to find somewhere else to go, then."

Sheppard hesitated. "Um – perhaps there's one more little thing I should mention."

Resisting the urge to stop in the middle of the street to slap him silly (or punch him out) – which would draw unwanted attention – Teyla sighed. "Now what?"

"McKay and a team of his scientist friends are coming too."

This time Teyla did stop dead in her tracks. She ignored the people bumping into and yelling at her. "_What_? What could they _possibly_ do?"

"Oh – I had a feeling you'd react this way." John seemed to be supremely uncomfortable under the wild-eyed glare with which she pinned him. "Security systems. If we're going to keep you safe, we need advanced technology. To set up monitoring and warning systems by the Ring, by your campsite . . . on the trail—"

Teyla lifted one hand to shut him up. "Look," she said, "it is not that I am _not_ grateful for all you and your people have done for Ronon and me. But – part of the reason why Ronon and I _chose_ that planet was for the quiet and solitude. From what I have heard, it sounds like you are trying to turn it into the galaxy's next thriving metropolis!" She didn't like the thought of _all these people_ in harm's way. In _her and Ronon's_ way! "Is there anything _else_ you would like to tell me?"

"No." This time Sheppard didn't look the least bit guilty. "I'm good."

Growling softly, Teyla spun to continue working her way through the crowd.

"Hey, Teyla." Ronon materialized at her side, nearly making her jump. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course I did." She securely wound her fingers through Ronon's, smiling up at him. "Where have you been?"

"You wouldn't like it."

"Try me."

Now Ronon looked guilty. "I got this." With his free right hand, he reached to the holster at his hip. A quick spin brought a silver weapon like nothing Teyla had ever seen before into her line of sight. "I wanted to have a better gun to defend us with. Some of the creatures on that planet aren't going to be easy to bring down if they attack our camp. So I got this. It has stun _and_ kill capabilities, a rechargeable energy chip – solar powered! – so I don't have to worry about more ammunition, and—"

"Did you trade for it?" she asked. She'd noticed how he kept avoiding using the word _bought_.

"Um – kind of." Ronon re-holstered the weapon, sliding her a sideways glance at the same time. "I was going to, honest. The guy said he knew where he could get more, so he was willing to give his up – but he'd only part with it to someone worthy, so he challenged me to a fight, and—"

"Men." Teyla dropped his hand, irritated at his run-on sentence and sheer male stupidity. Crossing her arms in front of her to keep him from reaching for her hand again, she said coolly, "You and your stubborn male pride." Then, with considerably more heat, "What about your _back?!_"

Ronon looked injured. "'S okay. And I got the gun."

"Ugh." Teyla shook her head.

"Congratulations, friend." Sheppard slapped Ronon on the back, chuckling in delight. "Wish I could have seen _that_ fight."

Behind them, Teyla could hear the two guards who had gone with Ronon dishing to the ones who'd stayed with her. She felt horribly outnumbered by men. In hindsight, perhaps it _would_ be a good thing Elizabeth was coming. At least she'd have _someone_ female to talk to when the men became too irritating to be around.

Their stay on the planet Teyla had previously considered paradise was looking more and more like a very long, very tiring one.

She only hoped no one else would get hurt.

_-To Be Continued_-


	21. Discovery

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 21/40

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-Chapter 20-

_Discovery_

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Teyla escaped the madness at camp by heading out with Elizabeth to excavate. She carried a weapon in a holster at her hip, as well as a few knives hidden in easily reachable spots in her outfit. She was ready to protect both of them in case of attack – she hoped.

Years of experience helped Elizabeth quickly set up her dig site. She roped off the area in which she wanted to work, then set aside tarps just in case she had to protect the dig from rain or other forms of inclement weather. Carefully unpacking her equipment, she lined it all up before her and sank back on her heels, looking satisfied. "Okay. We're ready to start working now."

Teyla knelt next to her friend. She had a rudimentary understanding of what needed to be done, from her brief work on Elizabeth's other dig on Atlantis. "What do you need me to do?"

"Keep your eyes open for danger, if you please. We're going to excavate this area in little grids, looking for anything of interest. Pottery, bones, anything to show signs of civilization that may have lived here at one time. I get the feeling all we're going to find is animal bones, but we can try." Since they were in the shade of a huge canopy of leafy trees, Elizabeth shrugged out of her long-sleeved shirt. The sleeveless top beneath looked like this wasn't the first time it'd been worn at a dig. "Okay then – let's get started."

For a little while, Teyla carefully worked on her little grid. Her mind, left free to wander as her hands worked, drifted back to Ronon. She'd left him at the camp with Sheppard. She wasn't quite as interested in security systems – just so long as they worked.

They'd gotten a few private moments with each other before bedtime the night before. Ronon had kissed her, and said again he loved her. Teyla repeated it, then flew somewhere up in the stars for the rest of the night. Not even a hot, dirty archeological dig and thousands of other interruptions could dampen her mood today.

"So—" Elizabeth threw her a wicked grin. "How are things with Ronon?"

Teyla wondered if her friend could read minds. "Quite well, thank you."

Elizabeth chuckled. "You're not going to be more specific than that, are you?"

Hesitating, Teyla looked up. She knew her expression said it all, but she didn't care. She was just so _happy_. "Not for a while."

Shrugging, Elizabeth went back to her work. "Fair enough." They worked in silence for a while, then she spoke again. "Find anything yet?"

"Not yet. You?"

Elizabeth sat up and rubbed her lower back. "No." A reluctant smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. "As many years as I've been doing this, I know it can sometimes be _weeks_ before we find something. But all that while, I'm hoping for something at any moment." She swiped the back of her wrist across her forehead. "Oh, when the archeological fever sets in. . ." She trailed off, smiling. "There's just nothing like it."

"All those discoveries, all that knowledge – it must be amazing."

A certain glint in her eye, Elizabeth nodded. "Very much so. The only thing that surpasses it is true love." Another smile, this one knowing. "Which, I believe, you've gotten firsthand experience with."

Teyla looked away, feeling a blush creep up her neck. "I do believe I have." She acted like she was solely concentrating on her work, but her heart was racing and her mind spinning. Even something simple like _thinking_ about Ronon brought on this reaction in her.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I've known Ronon for a few years, since John first introduced us. I don't think you could find a finer man in this galaxy."

Emotion swelled in her. Feeling foolish, Teyla blinked back her tears. "Thank you," she whispered.

Once more, they lapsed into silence. They worked until Ronon came to get them for lunch. He helped them cover the dig site with the tarps before they headed back to camp.

Elizabeth winked at her and ran on ahead. Teyla smiled thankfully, hanging back to walk at a slower pace with Ronon.

"So, how's it been going?" he asked her. He started to reach for her hand, saw how dirty she was, and stuck his hands in his pockets instead.

Teyla chuckled. "Slowly. Rather painfully, too. Sitting hunched over the same place doing the same thing for hours on end really aggravates the back."

Ronon caught her shoulders, tugging her to a stop as he turned her to face him. He'd suddenly gone from playful to serious. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about all this before," he said quietly. "I just – didn't know how to bring it up."

"It does not _really_ bother me," she said. "It is just a little annoyance, every now and then."

Spontaneously, Ronon leaned down to kiss her. "I promise we'll work on getting at least a few minutes alone every day. Promise." Heedless of the dirt, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him tightly. "I really do love you."

"I love you, too." Resting her head on his chest, she listened to his heartbeat under her ear and prayed she'd never have to hear it stop.

"I've loved you since I first found my mother's sketch of you on Sateda," he admitted sheepishly. Then he paused. "Okay, that sounded weird."

Teyla lifted her head to look solemnly up at him. "I wish I could say I've loved you since the first moment I saw you," she whispered.

Ronon cupped her face in his large, calloused hands and smiled down at her. "It's okay," he said. "We love each other now. Does it really matter how we started out?"

She twined her arms around his neck to pull his head down to hers, careful not to touch him with her dirt-smeared hands. "Not really," she agreed.

"Hey!" Sheppard's voice drifted toward them from the direction of the camp. "Did you guys get lost out there?"

Ronon kissed her one more time. "Come on, we should go."

Teyla nudged him with her shoulder. "Race you there!"

Ronon won.

**-Campsite-**

Teyla had no _idea_ she had so many muscles – or that it was possible for all of them to ache at once. Once darkness began to fall, Elizabeth sent Teyla back to camp. John went to take her place guarding Elizabeth and her dig. Weir decided to keep working until it was too dark to see.

Dropping down next to Ronon, she leaned against him and sighed. "I am clean," she told him when he eyed her suspiciously. "I took a bath before I came to sit here."

Ronon wrapped his long arm around her shoulder, gently hugging her to his side. "You're stiff as a board. You okay?"

Teyla groaned, melting into Ronon's side thankfully. "My entire body _aches_. I did not realize archeology is such _hard_ work."

Kissing her temple, Ronon gently squeezed the hand she'd rested on his knee. "Sorry."

"I was the one who volunteered to help her." Lethargy tugged at Teyla's eyelids, and she yawned hugely. "Sorry," she said.

"It's okay. You want to turn in early?"

"Maybe. But we have not had very much time together at all today. This is nice." She sighed, scooting a little closer to him.

"Agreed." Ronon took his arm from around her. As she opened her mouth to protest, he said, "Turn around. I'll massage your shoulders – see if that helps."

Teyla obediently turned, hanging her head as Ronon gently massaged her shoulders and neck with his strong fingers. She moaned.

Ronon jerked his hands away. "Did that hurt?" he asked anxiously.

"No. That feels wonderful. You are going to put me to sleep here in just a minute." She sighed contentedly as Ronon began massaging again. "Hmm."

Floating in a haze of semi-consciousness, Teyla wasn't sure if the startled cry in the distance was her imagination or not. It sounded like one of the birds had been disturbed from its nest. "What was that?" she muttered.

"Sounds like one of the animals. It's getting dark – one of the night ones probably startled a daytime one who didn't make it home before the sun went down." Ronon's voice was soft and deep, gently lulling her more and more towards sleep. His low, rich laugh brought a sleepy smile to her face. It drifted into wistfulness when he gently kissed the base of her neck. "Love you."

Now that he'd said it once to break the ice, it seemed like he couldn't say it enough – or like she couldn't _hear_ it enough. "Love you, too," she murmured.

Ronon laughed, fingers working on the hard knots in her shoulders. "You sound like you're going to fall asleep any minute."

"I think I might." Feeling like a bowl of mush, Teyla slowly leaned back against Ronon's chest. "Hmm," she sighed. She wouldn't mind staying here for the rest of her life. In fact, she'd rather like it if she could somehow manage to do just that.

Two strong arms slipped around her waist as Ronon's head dropped to her shoulder. "Want me to carry you to your tent?" he asked softly.

"No, I want to stay here a minute." She closed her eyes and nestled her head into the crook of his neck. At this point, she really couldn't care less who saw them.

"Ronon! Teyla! Ronon! Teyla!"

Teyla snapped alert from where she'd been hovering on the edge of sleep. Ignoring the protests her aching muscles put up, she scrambled to her feet with Ronon. "What's going on?" the Satedan demanded.

Elizabeth appeared at the edge of the firelight, her eyes wide and more than a little frightened. Right behind her, John kept throwing glances over his shoulder back into the woods, as if afraid something would follow them out.

"It – it's just so – I can't believe this!" Sheppard panted.

Weir braced her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. She shook her head. "This wasn't what I was expecting to find," she said between gasps.

"What?" Ronon demanded. "Did you disturb a nest, or what?"

"Something like that." John chuckled grimly. "You're going to have to see this to believe it."

"Stay here," Ronon commanded. He brushed her shoulder and started to follow John.

Teyla caught his hand and clung. "No! If there is danger, we will be stronger if we face it together."

Ronon looked like he wanted to object. But he sighed and curled his fingers around hers. "Stay close to me," he said instead.

"No problem there."

Sheppard and Elizabeth led them back through the woods, down the now-familiar trail to where Teyla and Weir had been digging earlier. Now, under the glow of strong lamps, Teyla could see a good portion of the ground had been cleared. She and Ronon ducked under the ropes, eyes focused on the deepest hole.

"I finally hit something," Elizabeth said. "I thought it was the foundation for a building, or perhaps a fireplace of some sort. Being metallic-looking, though, that didn't make sense. It wasn't until John recognized it. . ." She trailed off, allowing Ronon and Teyla to draw their own conclusions.

Teyla stared at the exposed area. Even though she could see only a portion, she knew the _thing_ had to be massive. The light gleamed dully off the smooth, grey metallic surface. Upon slightly closer look, she saw small veins of gleaming blue shot through the grey. She didn't recognize it. "What—?" she started to say.

Ronon didn't let her finish. His left arm shot out, curling around her protectively. He quickly shifted, placing most of his body between her and the thing. His right hand yanked his blaster from its holster, spinning it twice to charge. "Stay back!" he warned the others.

"What is it?" Teyla whispered.

"A Wraith ship," he spat.

_-To Be Continued-_


	22. Exploration

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 22/40

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-Chapter 21-

_Exploration_

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Leaving Major Leah Dewaly and Detective Lorne (the latter of whom was working in conjunction with Atlantis's military) to guard the Wraith ship, the others debated over what to do.

"It would appear there is nowhere for us to go to escape them," Teyla said. "Even this planet – thought uninhabited – has given us quite a surprise."

"Here's a thought – should we see if the ship is actually _inhabited_ before we jump to conclusions?" Sheppard sounded tired and annoyed. "For all we know, this place could have been abandoned hundreds of years ago."

"It'd be nice," Ronon muttered. "But our running luck just isn't that good."

"Do we want to take a chance?" Elizabeth asked. "There is _no_ way we can defend ourselves against an attack if we wake up the Wraith that may or may not be in that ship."

"So far there's been no sign of life," John mused. "You'd think unearthing the thing would have set off an alarm or something inside. Maybe there _is_ nobody home."

"On the other hand, they could be waiting for a prime moment to attack," McKay snarked from across the campfire.

"_That_ sounds more likely," Teyla sighed.

"But not as nice." John swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. "So, what do you think? We need to make some kind of decision."

Ronon gazed around the camp, figuring in his mind how long it would take to break it down in case they had to move quickly. "We should pack up first," he said. "Maybe move the stuff off-world with Teyla, Elizabeth, and the scientists. That way—"

"So you're up for going in?" John's eyes glinted.

"No!" Teyla and Elizabeth immediately protested in unison.

The two men turned to face them. "'No' what?" Ronon asked.

"No we are not leaving!" Elizabeth said.

"And you are most certainly _not_ going into that ship without me!" Teyla added hotly.

Ronon and John swapped exasperated looks. "What do you think you can do?" John asked Elizabeth.

"Whether you like it or not, that is still an archeological dig – which means it's _my_ territory," Elizabeth said firmly. "So if you're going to be hacking around in there, digging up my find – I have a _right_ to be there."

"Teyla?" Ronon looked to the petite Athosian, one eyebrow quirked questioningly.

"I can watch your back," she replied. "Besides, did you not say _I_ am the one meant to destroy the Wraith?" She lowered her voice for the last, since they were supposed to be the only two who knew of her destiny.

"I did," he admitted slowly. "But that was _before_ we found the Wraith Cruiser."

Teyla reached out to wrap her arms around his waist, hugging herself to him. "It will be okay."

Ronon's arms folded around her, his hand immediately burying itself in her hair. "You'd better be right," he said. "I can't lose you."

"You are the one I worry about," Teyla mumbled into his chest.

"You're too selfless," he complained. He buried his face in her hair.

"So are you," she returned. "_Someone_ has to be concerned for you."

Ronon sighed. He didn't realize until just then how _good_ it felt to have someone care for him, to have someone to care _for_ in the same way. "I'm just returning the favor."

Teyla chuckled, though the sound was hollow. "That seems fair."

John cleared his throat noisily. "Are we doing this, or what?" he questioned.

Their tender moment interrupted, Ronon and Teyla reluctantly pulled away from each other. "We're in," Ronon said. Teyla nodded determinedly next to him.

"Okay, then," John said. "Let's go do this."

They quickly broke down their camp, then sent Rodney and his assistants through the Ring, where they would stay in the water-city Atlantis to await word on the success or failure of the mission.

The walk back to the dig site was filled with tense silence. Everyone had his or her own theory on what they would find in the ship. Ronon, personally, thought it was a little foolhardy to be doing something so dangerous. But he saw Sheppard's point. Even if they covered the ship up again and left it alone, they had no guarantee it wouldn't _do_ something. It was best to determine the threat it posed _now_. He just wished Teyla wasn't coming along.

Dewaly and Lorne crouched over a newly cleared area. "We found the hatch," Lorne reported. "We've been very careful not to touch the actual ship. We didn't want to set anything off."

"Good job," Sheppard said. He was already studying the hatch, figuring out the best way to get in.

"You found the hatch?" Ronon stared at it.

Everyone looked at him. "That's a problem?" Dewaly asked.

"Yeah. The hatches are typically on the _sides_ of the Wraith cruisers. The only entrances I've ever seen have been through the side, or through the Dart bay. I wouldn't think they'd have one on top, too." A theory was beginning to formulate in his mind. It gave him hope.

"Okay then," John said. "We might not be able to get inside?"

"Maybe. If I'm right, we'll be using the walls as floors." Ronon shrugged out of his pack to withdraw a coil of rope. "We'll need to harness down – and be _very careful_ once we are."

Sheppard nodded. "Dewaly – you stay up here with Elizabeth. Keep an eye and ear open."

"Yessir."

Ronon turned to Teyla. "Last chance – don't suppose you've changed your mind?"

She shook her head determinedly. "No."

"Okay." He went to kneel next to the entrance. "Okay. Everyone ready?" Blaster balanced in his right hand, he looked up. Sheppard, Lorne, Teyla, and Dewaly crowded around him, weapons ready to fire at whatever might be revealed beyond the hatch.

"Do it," John said. Sweat formed a sheen on his forehead.

Ronon stood and backed up to stand next to Teyla. "Three – two – one—" He fired two shots, obliterating the controls. The door visibly popped open, the hiss of displaced air echoing through the suddenly-silent jungle.

Everyone tensed, waiting for _anything_ to happen. But the ship stayed where it was, the hatch still half-closed. The only things moving in the night were the animals and the humans clustered around the opening of the ship.

Stepping a little closer, Ronon, John, and Lorne lifted the hatch. They shone bright lights down into the area below, with no sign of life within.

"Okay," Ronon said. "Let's gear up and go down."

Elizabeth chattered requests – please remember everything you see, don't forget to check in every now and then, be careful – as they harnessed up. With a gun and flashlight per person, they one by one entered the gloomy ship.

Ronon, the second one down, flashed his light around the area. Sure enough, the ship was resting at a steep angle. They could still walk on the floor, as long as they were careful. The stale smell of dead air, coupled with the stench of Wraith that came with any of their vile ships, made him want to plug his nose. "See anything?" he asked Sheppard softly.

His friend shook his head. "Nope. Nothing here. You?"

"No." The unsettled feel at the back of his neck waned a little. "Not yet, at least."

"Don't be such a pessimist," Sheppard said. "This place looks pretty – well, dead. No power, no life forms, nothing."

"Just because we don't _see_ anything, doesn't mean there's nothing _here_." Ronon glanced over as Teyla unbuckled her harness and came to stand next to him. "You okay?"

Her dark eyes sparkled in the light of his torch. "I am fine. Have you seen anything?"

"Like I just told _him_, not yet." Teyla's light joined his, the dual beams flashing around the immediate area and down the hall stretching before them. "I think we should go this way."

"Why?" Sheppard and Lorne came to join them.

"Seems logical." The four quietly proceeded, alert for any signs of the enemy or booby traps.

"Um – dead sucker!" Lorne's voice drifted back to them from where he'd blazed on ahead.

The three hurried on ahead. Sprawled at the detective's feet was one of the generic warriors – he looked like he'd been dead for quite a while. "Ew," Sheppard said, nose wrinkled.

"Fed on," Ronon said immediately. "Wraith cannibalism."

The other three stared at him, aghast. Lorne and Sheppard quickly looked away; Teyla turned three different shades of green and covered her mouth with her hand.

"I've seen something like this once before. It shouldn't be repulsive – not after all they've done to our kind, but – somehow, it is." Ronon lifted his gaze to the hall ahead. "Let's go on."

They found the husks of other Wraith warriors as they went along. All of them looked like they'd suffered the same fate as the first.

S"I am curious – what caused this ship to crash in the first place?" Teyla wondered aloud.

"Who knows? Maybe they had engine failure. Pilot error, meteor showers, shot down – there's a good number of things that could have caused it." Sheppard sounded so –_ flippant._ It unnerved Ronon.

"Just so long as there's nothing _alive_ left down here, I don't care _what_ caused it to crash," Lorne said vehemently.

"You said it," Ronon murmured. The prickling sensation at the back of his neck had returned. "You know – maybe we should get out of here." He'd never _really_ been claustrophobic, but now it seemed like the walls were creeping in closer. And he couldn't shake the feeling that something – or some_one_ – was watching them. He knew it had to be his imagination, but he couldn't shake the feeling.

"Do you see something?" Teyla's hand was soft and gentle on his arm, but it only fueled his urgency.

"No. I just – have a _really_ bad feeling." Gooseflesh raised on his arms, chilling down his spine and along his skin. "We should get a bigger team in here – you know, come back later."

Now Sheppard looked uncomfortable. "You know – that's a good idea." He began to back down the hall. "Come on, people – strategic retreat time."

"You're the first up the rope when we get there," Ronon told her.

For once, Teyla didn't argue.

They quickly made their way back down the hall to the entrance point. "Dewaly!" Sheppard shouted.

The tall brunette's head appeared in the doorway. "Sir?" she questioned.

"We're coming up and out."

"Yes sir." She disappeared again.

"Okay, Teyla, let's get you harnessed up." Sheppard reached for the rope, from which one of the harnesses dangled.

The attack came from behind Ronon, with no warning except his bad feeling. One moment he was standing next to Teyla. The next, he was in the air, halfway across the room. Only a blink of time later, he landed on the floor, skidding on the downward slant to slam against the wall.

Sheppard and Lorne were still in motion, knocked aside in the same sudden, violent way as Ronon. His lungs seized, refusing to work because of the shock they'd received from his hitting the ground so hard. He wanted to reach for his gun; to scream a warning; to do _something_.

Teyla screamed.

_-To Be Continued-_


	23. Puzzles

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 23/40

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**

-Chapter 22-

_Puzzles_

_

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_

Teyla!

Ronon's mind cried. _Wraith!_ came right on the heels of the first thought.

The slender Athosian had one hand curled around the wrist of the talon attached to her chest. Eyes wide, mouth open in shock, she reached the other up to latch on to the creature's neck. Her mouth snapped closed, her eyes narrowing dangerously as the initial shock passed. She seemed to be concentrating hard on something important.

Ronon, still breathless from being thrown to the floor, managed to get his feet under him. He reached for his weapon, but was afraid to shoot for fear of hurting Teyla further. He wasn't entirely sure _what_ to do.

Suddenly the Wraith screamed. It lifted its hands to its head, threading its – his? – fingers through its coarse white hair, releasing Teyla. She staggered back but managed to stay standing, her gaze still firmly focused on the Wraith male writhing before her.

Now that he could get a clear shot, he lifted his weapon to kill it.

"Wait!" Teyla yelled.

The Wraith let out another scream, then crumpled to the ground. It twitched twice, then lay limp.

For a moment everything was absolutely still. No one spoke, no one moved. All focus centered on Teyla, who stared back with equal shock. Then her eyes rolled back in her head as her body fell forward.

Ronon and Sheppard got there at the same time. Each caught her on a side and eased her to the floor. Lorne went to stand by the Wraith, his gun trained on its head – just in case.

"What's happening down there?!" Elizabeth sounded like she was getting ready to come down the ladder.

"Stay with her," Sheppard said to Ronon. "I'll go up – we need to get a doc out here."

Ronon brushed Teyla's hair away from her face, trying to find any signs of aging. The Wraith seemed to have been latched on to her for so _long_ – how was this possible? Other than the still-bleeding wound on her chest, it looked like she hadn't been attacked by a Wraith. She was not a single day older. "Yeah," he said to Sheppard. "We need to get her out of here, too – just in case there's something else down here."

Sheppard easily scaled the rope free-hand. Ronon heard him give a truncated version of events to Dewaly and Elizabeth, then his footsteps pounding off into the woods. Lorne remained, hovering over Ronon's shoulder to provide light. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know." He was still having trouble getting past the part where she didn't age, even though the Wraith fed on her. And why had the Wraith gone crazy and died?

Everything clicked in his mind then, like a puzzle that had been waiting for the final piece. _Oh my. . . Mother wasn't kidding when she said Teyla was meant to destroy the Wraith. _She's_ the weapon!_ For some reason, that terrified him even more. "Teyla," he said softly, cradling her face in his hands. "Come on, _mi nanga_. Please wake up."

"Is she okay?" Elizabeth called down.

"We don't know!" Lorne responded. "We're still waiting for her to wake up!"

_Please wake up, Teyla. Please, Ancestors, don't take her._ "Hopefully she'll come around soon. We've got to figure out a way to get her up the rope. We can't stay down here – we don't know what else might be crawling around in here." Ronon looked up, measuring the length of the rope by eye. It would be complicated, but maybe he could—

"I believe I can climb the rope myself. Thank you, though, Ronon."

Ronon stared at Teyla, wide-eyed. Though she still lay on her back on the floor, she looked as cool and composed as she had a hundred times before when upright. "Teyla?"

"What happened?" She blinked at sat up, one hand going to her head. "Oh-h-h," she groaned. "My head is spinning."

Ronon took her by the shoulders to help her lie down again. "You don't remember anything?"

Teyla reached up to take his hand. "I remember – we were exploring a Wraith ship. And—"

"Is she awake?" Sheppard was back – and it sounded like he'd brought an entire army with him.

"Yes!" Ronon called up. "She's a little dizzy. I'm going to bring her up."

This time she didn't protest as Ronon helped her into the harness. He free-climbed behind her, helping keep her steady as they pulled her up. Lorne was the last out, and he looked very happy to breathe fresh – albeit humid – jungle air again.

Sheppard met them at the outskirts of the dig site. "Rodney brought his whole team back. I brought back quite a few soldiers. They're going to sweep the ship."

Teyla began to sway again. Ronon carefully picked her up, cradling her close to him. She didn't argue; instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes. "Did you happen to bring a med team with you?"

"Yeah. They're waiting back at camp with the scientists." Sheppard pointed over his shoulder.

"Thanks." Ronon shouldered his way through the guards, concentrating on Teyla's even breathing. As long as that sound continued, he knew there was hope this crazy life of theirs would turn out okay.

"Ronon?" She barely waited until they were out of hearing distance of the guards to speak.

"Yeah?" He unconsciously tightened his grip on her.

"I remember. . ." she whispered.

Ronon unconsciously held his breath, quickening his steps.

"There was – something. It was pure evil, like nothing I have ever known before. Ages of feeding on the rapidly-dwindling number of drones, then his Hive brothers. Beyond that, living alone with the hunger. . ." She stopped for a moment. "Going to sleep, until the invaders awoke him." She lifted her hand, touching the mark on her chest. "He wanted to kill me," she whispered. "He was trying to—" She began to shudder.

More puzzle pieces slipped into place. "Teyla, are you saying you _read his mind_?"

Confusion flitted across her expression. "I – think – maybe I did." She turned wide, frightened eyes to his. "Tell me – what happened to him? What did I do?"

Ronon met her eyes steadily. "He's dead. I'd rather not elaborate."

Teyla stared at him for a long moment, eyes intense. At last she looked away, resting her head on his shoulder again. "If you feel that is best."

The revived campsite greeted Ronon as he broke through the edge of the jungle. Science teams scurried around, setting up computers and the like. He caught one of the soldiers on guard rotation. "Where's the med team?" he demanded.

"Over there." The guard pointed, then went back to his rounds.

Ronon sighed. "Friendly people," he muttered.

Teyla's soft laugh puffed warm breath across his throat. "Feeling better?" he asked anxiously.

"I am very tired. It will be nice to get some rest." Her drooping eyelids concerned him.

Ronon ducked into the med tent, grasping Teyla tightly so he wouldn't drop her. He stood in the doorway looking around, shoulders hunched and head ducked. "Couldn't they make the ceilings in these things _higher_?" he complained quietly.

Teyla chuckled again.

"Aye! And what kind of medical emergency do we have here?"

Ronon jumped at the voice speaking by his left elbow. He looked to the side and down into the kind blue eyes of a dark-haired man. "I – um." He wasn't exactly sure how to explain the situation.

Teyla met the doctor's eyes, her fingers once more brushing over the torn fabric of her shirt. "This," she whispered.

The doc nearly dropped the stethoscope in his hands. "Wraith!" he exclaimed. "Here," he motioned to a bed. "How much were you aged, lass?" he asked softly. He was working on his examination before Ronon even laid her down.

"None," Ronon said. "In fact – she killed the Wraith."

"She? This wee lass?" The doctor stared, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. "_You_? Lass, don't take this wrong, but you look like you couldn't hurt a thing!"

Teyla turned her face away. Her eyelids were beginning to lower again. "I am so tired. I just want to sleep. I am fine."

Ronon looked helplessly at the doctor. "She—"

"Keep her awake. Pinch her gently, talk to her, scream at her – I'm not for carin' now. Just keep her with us." He scurried off.

Ronon, thankful this meant he was allowed to stay, knelt next to Teyla's cot. "Stay awake a little longer, _mi nanga_," he begged. Stroking his hand over her hair, he concentrated on holding her gaze. As long as he maintained eye contact, she wouldn't go to sleep. He knew it.

"You keep calling me that," she responded.

Confused, Ronon blinked. "Huh?"

"You call me _mi nanga_. What does it mean?" Her searching hand found his, and she threaded her fingers through his.

Ronon folded his long hand around hers, hating how cold it felt. "Oh. I'm sorry. Do you not like it?"

"I like it," Teyla assured him quickly. "I am just curious – what does it mean?"

Hesitating, Ronon leaned a little closer to speak directly in her ear. "It's Satedan for 'my soulmate.'" Leaning back, he anxiously met her eyes. "Does it bother you?" he asked again.

A soft, glowing smile curled up the corners of her lips. "Really?" she questioned. "You – see me that way?"

"Yes." He kissed her forehead. "You—"

"I'm back!" Doc came hustling back into sight, a small device in his hand. "Now then, my dear, let's see what we can find out."

Teyla turned to Ronon, brushing his face with the fingers of her free hand. "The team in the Wraith ship needs you," she said softly. "I do not want to keep you."

Ronon's gaze flashed up at the doctor. He felt torn: he wanted to stay with Teyla, but he also wanted to help them. If there were more of those nasty creatures, he wanted to have first crack at killing them.

Teyla smiled. "Ronon, my love. Do you really think I would be this calm if there were more dangerous things to be found?" She tugged on his hand, getting him to lean forward enough so she could kiss him. "I am afraid I would be too selfish, if that were the case. No, there are no more Wraith on the ship, except for the dead. But there are other creatures out there – and you are bravest of us all."

He wanted to argue the point, but knew it would be moot at the moment. Ronon looked up at the doctor, who smiled and nodded quickly – it was safe for him to leave her now. His warm blue eyes didn't lie – Teyla would be fine. Quickly kissing her forehead, Ronon smiled. "Rest, Teyla. I promise I'll come back."

"You'd better," she murmured. She was asleep before he left the tent.

_-To Be Continued_-


	24. Vision

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 24/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 23-

_Vision_

* * *

Teyla knew beyond a doubt she was asleep. Yet even though she slept, she maintained an awareness of things going on around her. She knew when Ronon left; she heard the doctor quietly going about his work; she heard others moving around outside the tent.

Beyond even that, there was an awareness in her consciousness she hadn't known she possessed. It seemed like dreaming, but she knew she couldn't be. She wasn't deeply asleep enough _to_ dream. No, this was something different. Something beyond terrifying.

In this dream that wasn't, she saw Elizabeth's dig site. Everyone from military to scientist milled around. She couldn't really tell details – one person looked like the next in this dream – save for one person. Ronon stood on the outskirts of the chaos around the downed Wraith ship, shoulder propped against the bole of a tree. He casually watched the goings-on, expression and body language shouting how bored he was. Teyla felt badly for sending him off earlier. She knew he wouldn't be any more occupied if he _had_ stayed with her, but—

Her dream-world shifted. Everyone suddenly froze in place. Their fearful gazes turned skyward, horror overshadowing their formerly excited expressions. The sky above, just barely starting to be lightened by the encroaching dawn, went black once more. A massive shape hovered over the small clearing as a hideously familiar, unearthly screech echoed through the jungle.

The scream broke the workers' mass stupor. A great exodus began, with people scattering every direction. Ronon and another person – Sheppard, if Teyla had to guess – fired rapid shots at the creature to distract it so everyone else could get away. After the giant watched the majority of its prey disappear, it turned predatory eyes on the two humans left, who were still causing it such great pain. It broke from its hover, crashing into the clearing—

The earth quaked and shuddered beneath her, throwing her sideways into a confusing whirl of danger with Ronon and Sheppard. She screamed.

"Lass, wake up!"

Teyla's eyes snapped open. Slowly she realized rather than resulting from an earthquake, her shaking came from the doctor trying to wake her. On the heels of that revelation came another: She was not standing under cover of the woods watching the dig site; instead, she lay on a cot in the infirmary tent.

"Doctor!" she gasped out.

"Call me Carson, luv," he said. Leaning back, he eyed her with confused blue eyes. "What was all that about, now? It sounded like you were tryin' to wake the dead. I thought for a minute you were goin' t'roll right off your cot!"

She blinked rapidly, confused. "How long was I restless?" she asked.

"I don't know – perhaps a few moments? Not very long."

Teyla lifted her hands to her hair, desperation overtaking her confusion. "Where is Ronon?"

Carson blinked. "You sent him off, lass. Back to the dig site?"

Panic thudded with her ever-increasing heartbeats in her chest. "Oh no," she whispered. "What time is it?"

Reflexively, the doctor glanced at the open flaps of the tent. "Ah – looks like it's almost sunrise. Why?"

Perhaps it _had_ been a dream. And, just maybe, it was something else. Teyla threw off the covers, fumbling over the side of the bed for her shoes. Shoving them on, she sloppily tied the strings and jumped up. Ignoring the retaliatory throb in her head, she snatched up her jacket and shrugged into it as she half-stumbled toward the doorway.

"Lass – you can't! You need—"

Teyla gently pushed him away. "I promise, if I am wrong – I will come straight back here. If not – if I am too late – you need to be ready for more patients." Leaving a very confused Carson in the tent, she ran out of it and toward the trail leading back to the dig site.

People stared as she passed them, but she didn't stop to explain. She didn't even care what they thought of her. Even if what she'd seen while asleep _was_ a dream, she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep until she made sure Ronon and the others were fine. No matter how tired she was, how sore she was from her encounter with the Wraith, she had to push herself faster, to get there in time.

The sounds of many voices conferring reached her ears as she got closer to the dig site. She began to see, through the thinning trees, the light coming from the horizon. _No!_ Gasping, she made herself run even _faster_. She would feel positively ridiculous if she was wrong – but the deep pit of fear in her stomach convinced her she _wasn't_ wrong.

"Ronon!" she screamed the moment she caught sight of him.

His shoulders stiffened a little in surprise, and he turned to face her. She barely gave him a chance to brace himself and get his arms open to catch her before she barreled into him. "Teyla! What are you doing here? You should be resting." He cupped her face in his hands, eyes concerned.

"No!" She shook her head desperately. "You _must_ evacuate the site. The – the – thing!" She pointed up to the sky. "It is going to return!"

Ronon looked at her, confused. "You're shaking. What are you talking about?"

"The creature that attacked us the first night we were here! It is coming back." Despite herself, she leaned into his strong comfort for a moment longer than she should have. "Please, we have to evacuate the site." She was whispering now.

Ronon's intense green eyes examined her pleading expression, then he turned to face the others. "Okay, everybody back to camp!" he yelled.

McKay came storming across the site toward them. "Why?" he complained. "The macho-military-wannabes just finished sweeping the ship and said all was well. Me and my team are _finally_ being allowed inside. Why should we leave?"

"Because I said so!" Ronon growled through his teeth. "Now get your team and move it!"

Rodney huffed and headed back off, passing Sheppard along the way. "What's up?" the colonel wanted to know.

"Teyla says the creature that attacked us the first night we were is coming back. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

Teyla instinctively tightened her hold on Ronon a little. _Me too,_ she thought grimly. The hideous sights of her vision still hadn't faded – and she had a feeling they would never completely go away.

"We won't be safe? Look at all this security we have."

"You do not understand," Teyla whispered. "I-I _saw_ it. We must leave this area immediately."

Sheppard and Ronon stared at her, openmouthed. "What do you mean, you _saw_ it?" Ronon, first to recover his voice, asked.

"I do not know – I think – maybe – I had a vision of the future." Teyla bit her lip. "I know it sounds crazy, but—"

"After what I saw down there—" John pointed to the entrance of the Wraith ship "—I'd believe you if you told me pink attack squirrels were coming through the jungle after us." He spun. "Okay, people, pack it up! Let's move it out back to camp! We'll come back around midday to work some more."

Ronon threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "I believe you," he said softly.

The volume of chatter got louder as people began to evacuate. "Why?" Teyla asked. "It seems so – impossible."

Shrugging his broad shoulders, Ronon held her gaze and smiled a little. "Without our crazy destinies, it would have been impossible for me to find you," he said quietly. "Yet here we are."

It was amazing how, even in the midst of danger, Ronon could make her feel like she'd just puddled into a bowl of mush. "Mm-hm," she said distractedly.

"Come on, come on, move it, lovebirds!" McKay yelled.

Ronon and Teyla jumped. Turning, he gently pushed her toward the woods. "Go on," he said. "Sheppard and I will wait until the clearing is empty and be right behind you."

That old familiar panic welled up into Teyla's throat. "No!" she cried. "We all have to leave _now_!"

"What else did you see?" John, suddenly at her left shoulder, asked.

Gooseflesh rippled over Teyla's skin as a familiar shriek filled the air. "That!" she cried, pointing up.

The sky vanished.

_-To Be Continued-_


	25. Sweet Dreams

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 25/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 24-

_Sweet Dreams_

* * *

"Go, go, _go_, people!" Sheppard yelled. "Evacuate back to the camp."

In one swift movement reminiscent of the evening before, Ronon wrapped his arm around Teyla, putting his body between her and the threat above. He yanked out his blaster, spinning it as he set it to _kill_ mode.

"No!" Teyla threw up her hand to push his down. "Do not shoot at it! That made it worse."

Frustrated, Ronon faced her with a scowl. "Then what do you suggest?" he demanded.

She pushed frantically at him. "Do what John said – go back to camp!" She couldn't stand to let what happened in her dream become reality. To see him torn and bloody – dead – in real life: that would be ten times worse. "Please, Ronon, _go_!"

The Atlantian colonel jogged up to them. "Everyone else is on their way back to camp!" he gasped out. "We're all that's left."

"_Please_!" Teyla begged again. She tugged frantically on his arm. It was incredibly selfish of her, but she would sacrifice everyone else just to save Ronon. He _had_ to be safe. She couldn't do this – whether it be fulfilling her destiny or just living from day to day – without him.

Ronon and John swapped looks over her head. "Let's go," the former said quietly.

Once under cover of the woods, Teyla breathed a little easier. But immediately she tensed when she heard the creature scream again.

"It's okay!" Ronon said. His hand, still gripping hers, helped him gently pull her along through the trees with him. "It's not following us."

Not until they broke through into the chaos of the camp did Teyla dare relax. As the adrenaline rush she'd been thriving on wore off, she began to shake. Teeth chattering, she leaned against Ronon.

Elizabeth came toward them from where she'd been talking to McKay. "Are you three okay?" she questioned anxiously.

"We're fine," John said. He patted her arm comfortingly. "How about you?"

"We're all present and accounted for," she assured him. "What was that – _thing_?"

"Th-That's what attacked us the f-first night we were here-re," Teyla chattered out.

"Or something like it, at least." Ronon bent at the waist to lift Teyla again. "Come on, back to the infirmary."

Sheppard and Weir discreetly vanished.

"No," she moaned. "I want to go to my tent."

Ronon sighed. "Okay – we'll stop by the infirmary, and if the Doc says it's okay – then I'll take you to your tent."

Carson – after a bit of fussing – let her go. Teyla thanked him profusely but tiredly, willingly leaning into Ronon's warmth as he carried her back to her tent. Someone had been kind enough to set it up again – even her bedroll, which was neatly placed along the back wall.

Ronon knelt to lay her on the rolled out pallet. He helped her take her shoes off, then pulled the covers over her. Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Sleep well," he whispered.

Teyla caught his hand as he started to leave. "Wait!" she begged. "Please do not leave me alone." She bit her lip, afraid to admit she was scared to be alone. She knew her earlier vision would re-manifest itself in nightmares, and she needed to have Ronon with her, to assure herself he was okay. Besides, she was afraid she'd have another vision – and she did _not_ want to be by herself when it happened.

Ronon hesitated, staring down at their joined hands. A very soft expression entered his eyes, and this time when he leaned down, he kissed her lips. "I promise I'll be right back." He let go, disappearing out her tent door.

Teyla curled into a little ball under her covers, afraid to move. Warmth slowly thawed the chill in her bones, and lethargy took over. Her eyelids began to droop, but she didn't allow herself to fall asleep. Not yet – not until Ronon came back.

Her heroic protector came back just a few minutes later, as promised. He carried his bedroll under one arm, and it looked like he'd changed into a fresh set of clothes. "You look tired," Ronon said. He stretched out his bedroll next to hers and sat down. Reaching out, he brushed the pads of his fingers along her cheek. "Is this okay?"

Teyla stared drowsily at him, enjoying the warmth of his hand on her face. "Is what okay?" she asked, confused.

"The last time I stretched my bedroll by yours, you pushed me into a table and accused me of taking advantage of you." A teasing smile tugged at one corner of Ronon's mouth.

"Stop being sarcastic," Teyla mumbled. "Jus' want you here. I trust you." She yawned. "'Night." She couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.

Once more, Ronon's warm lips pressed a kiss to her temple. She felt more than heard him shift, then his fingers twined with hers. "Good night, _mi nanga_."

That was the last thing she remembered for a long while.

**-Teyla's Tent-**

Teyla woke with the feeling a long time had passed her by while she slept. Though she felt quite a bit more rested, lassitude clung to her like a veil. She didn't _want_ to move. She was warm, and comfortable, and. . .

. . .Her head was pillowed on Ronon's shoulder, her arm draped over his chest. Heat suffused her face, swiftly and unrelentingly. Giving a little squeak of surprise, Teyla tried to squirm away without waking him.

Ronon's arm had worked its way around her waist overnight. Mumbling something undistinguishable into her hair, his arm tightened around her. "Go back to sleep," he muttered then.

Slowly, she gave up trying to extricate herself. Ronon clung to her tightly, as if afraid to let her go. Every time she moved, he tightened his grip on her a little. Even though he immediately loosened his hold, she knew it was pointless. Well, if she was going to be stuck here _anyway_ – she might as well enjoy the experience.

Teyla gently lay her head back down on Ronon's shoulder, face tilted up so she could watch his. Asleep, he didn't look as stressed, as worried, as he did when awake. His features smoothed, making him look younger. Sometimes she found it hard to remember their true ages – over the course of this wild adventure, she felt at least ten years older than she really was. She wondered if Ronon felt that way, too. Here, though, with his arm around her and her head on his shoulder, she felt normal – perhaps for the first time ever. _This_ was the way life should be.

Of their own accord, her fingers lifted to trace across his face. She barely touched him, afraid she'd wake him up if she pressed too hard. His honey skin felt warm and smooth, and she sighed. It was a relief to know he was uninjured – so, in a way, she should be thankful for her vision, if that was what it was.

Teyla's warm, fuzzy mood waned. Sighing, she draped her arm over Ronon's chest again and closed her eyes. What a strange, strange life she and Ronon led.

When she was on the threshold of sleep again, Ronon stirred. "Morning, Teyla."

"Actually – I believe it is more like evening." Reluctantly, she pried her eyelids open again. "Did you sleep well?"

A sneaky grin lit up his face. "I did," he chuckled. Suddenly serious again, he asked, "You?"

"Fine." Teyla shifted a little, curious. Ronon immediately dropped his arm away from her waist, but when she didn't move, he curled it around her again. Another smile warmed her inside-out. Maybe this wasn't so bad, after all. "I believe it is a wonder no one has come to check on us."

Ronon kissed the top of her head. "You're complaining?"

"No." She snuggled her head a little tighter against his shoulder. "Thank you for staying."

He lifted his free hand to brush her hair behind her ear. "Thanks for letting me." He kissed her forehead. "Not to seem ungrateful – but why'd you ask?"

Teyla turned her gaze away from his. "I – wanted to make sure. If I had another vision – or dreamed of my other – I wanted to _know_ you were here, with me."

"Oh, Teyla." He sighed, face nuzzling into her hair. "I promise I won't leave you."

"You cannot make that promise." She swallowed, wondering where her good feelings from before had gone. "Not with things the way they are – not with all that danger. . ." She trailed off, biting her lip until she tasted blood.

Ronon's thumb softly traced across her cheekbone. "What _did_ you see, earlier? In your vision?" he asked softly. He seemed hesitant, but not uncomfortable, saying the word _vision_. It was strange, how this experience had helped them to accept even the strangest of things as true.

Teyla closed her eyes against the onslaught of memories. "Please do not ask me that," she whispered. Against her will, tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Her throat felt hot and tight as she tried to swallow back her sobs. "I cannot talk about it. I-I am sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have brought it up. Not after – after the way you reacted earlier. I guess I can imagine." He gently patted her side with the hand at her waist. "Thank you, for coming to get us."

"You," she corrected into the curve of his neck.

". . .Me?"

She lifted her head to meet his eyes. "My vision – everything was fuzzy but the creature, and you." She didn't want to say or think it for sure, but she wondered if this was the first of many visions – and, more specifically, if she was able to predict possible courses in Ronon's future. What a gift – and a curse – that would be: to see any danger to Ronon, and stop it before it happened. To prevent his death, so she could keep him with her. . .

He looked at her with thoughtful but sad eyes. Then he sighed, kissed her lips, and hugged her a little closer.

Teyla tightened the arm she had over his chest and hoped this closeness would be a common theme for the rest of their lives – however long that may be.

_-To Be Continued-_


	26. Developments

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 26/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 25-

_Developments_

* * *

There's knowing: a hard-earned understanding of the situation, of all the intricacies and difficulties therein.

And then there's _knowing_: an instinctive knowledge that – against all odds, beyond all possibility – the situation has just dropped itself into one's lap, and it is meant to be.

Ronon Dex – who all this time was experiencing the former – found the latter thrust upon him in an impossible moment of frustration (which could be construed as undignified, to the gutter minded).

Teyla threw things helter-skelter out of her trunk, causing Ronon to duck and scurry and block the various flying pieces of feminine apparel. "I cannot _believe_ this is happening," she groaned.

Ronon wisely said nothing, though the comment _Perhaps we should have put up a "Do not disturb" sign last night_ floated through his mind. He swiftly ducked a flying boot, barely avoiding a direct hit to the nose. It was as if Teyla had _known_ what he was thinking. And, just maybe, he _did_ deserve punishment for that.

"Of all the days – of all the _moments_! – for someone to come barging in—!" Teyla found the object for which she'd been searching, then began thrusting things back into the chest with the same unorganized frenzy with which she'd pulled them out. "It had to be now!"

Ronon handed her the stray boot. "It wasn't _really_ his fault. . ." he hedged.

Teyla leveled a dark gaze on him. Apparently her warm, loving mood from earlier had vanished. "Apparently he does not understand the meaning of the phrase 'ask for welcome and acceptance before entering,'" she sniped. "And what a disagreeable little man."

A brief moment of humor made him grin as he remembered the tomato-red face of Dr. McKay as he backed out of the tent, mumbling hasty apologies. Ronon wondered if he were _still_ running. Lucky for the scientist, Ronon wasn't in a vengeful mood this morning – evening. It was disconcerting, knowing he'd been sleeping all day. "It was an honest mistake, all around," he said. He politely went to sit in the corner with his back turned as Teyla began to change.

"Ugh," she groaned, voice muffled. "If rumors start running rampant around the place, we will at least know who started them." A suspicious jingle, then, "You can turn around."

Ronon did so, eyes popping wide open. "What are you wearing _that_ for?!" he demanded. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

Teyla looked down at the harem-style pants and loose peasant shirt she wore, expression slightly offended. "You don't like it?"

"I – um – that wasn't what I mean. I just – didn't expect you to wear something like that to – um – work?" _Were_ they required to do something today? He couldn't remember.

Teyla firmly sat down on her sleeping mat, folding her legs tailor style as she sat. Settling her hands – palms up – onto her bent knees, she drew in a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I need to meditate first."

Ronon stood awkwardly, unsure if he should stay or go.

"You can stay," she murmured. "Would you like to try?"

Hesitantly, he went to sit next to her, mimicking her tailor position. "No – but thanks," he said.

Teyla laughed and reached out to pat his knee. "It is okay. Not everyone – can."

As Teyla meditated, Ronon watched. He wondered how she could sit for so long in one position, so focused, so _quiet_. Her features, still and serene, stirred something deep inside him. Everything about her. . .

It was then Ronon _knew_ for sure – he really _did_ want to spend the rest of his life with this woman.

Before he lost his nerve, he leaned over and kissed her, just beneath her jaw.

Teyla's eyes snapped open, and she stared at him in surprise. "What was that for?"

Ronon looked away to hide his smile. "Just – because."

Teyla caught his chin and turned his face toward her. Her smile caught him off guard – he wasn't sure she'd appreciate her meditation being interrupted. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips.

Now he was the one to say it. "What was that for?"

She looked at him with a certain sparkle in her eyes and smile. "Just because."

**-Campsite-**

For once, the camp wasn't busy when Teyla and Ronon ducked out of her tent. Either everyone had been warned of the sure wrath of a certain couple, or everyone had other things to do elsewhere.

After a lukewarm breakfast (made from dinner food), Teyla rubbed her hands together and shrugged. "I guess we should head for the dig site," she said. "Everyone's probably there."

"Ah! You're awake now." Carson suddenly appeared at the doorway to the med tent, looking bright and chipper and – quite the opposite of how Ronon felt. "Good. Now that it's evening again, let's see how you're doing."

Out of the corner of his eye, Ronon saw Teyla flinch a little. "I feel _fine_," she protested. But she obediently turned to Ronon and kissed his cheek. "You go on ahead to the dig site," she told him. "I will be there soon."

Ronon demurred. He didn't want to leave her alone.

She laughed softly at his expression. "There are others here. I will be fine. Go on."

Giving in, Ronon pecked her lips with a kiss and went on. Unsurprisingly, he found a beehive of activity around the dig site, with the vast majority of the people on the planet clustered around the opening of the Wraith ship.

"'Lizabeth is down there with McKay's team," John said after greeting Ronon. "So far they haven't found anything interesting."

"Interesting to us, or interesting to them?" Ronon knew by now there was a distinct difference.

John hesitated a moment too long. "Um – interesting to us?"

Ronon chuckled.

"Where's Teyla?" Sheppard asked.

"Back at camp. Beckett insisted on looking her over, just to make sure she isn't carrying any – unpleasant side effects after yesterday – this morning. Whenever." Ronon rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. "Teyla chased me off. She said she'll be here, as soon as Doc lets her go."

John nodded. "Hmm. That makes sense." He propped his shoulder against a nearby tree. "So – what was all that about this morning anyway?"

Ronon shrugged. "She's having visions."

"Clairvoyance," Sheppard marveled.

"Teyla thinks there're limitations. She can't see _everything_ clearly – and, obviously, the future isn't set in stone."

"What a cryin' shame – for McKay, at least," the colonel chuckled.

Ronon shrugged again. "Yeah, I guess."

Sheppard shifted. "You going to start doing something soon – something – I don't know – freaky?"

"Teyla's not 'freaky,'" Ronon snapped. He was starting to get a bad feeling. Maybe he _shouldn't_ have left Teyla. . .

"I didn't mean it that way!" John defended himself. "I'm sorry. I just – forget it."

Ronon glanced toward the sun. The fiery orb was beginning to disappear below the horizon, the lowest quarter having already vanished. Surely it wouldn't take the doctor _this_ long. Would it?

"Maybe Beckett decided to hold her overnight," Sheppard suggested. "Don't worry, Ronon."

"Yeah, maybe." Was his jumpiness really _that_ obvious?

"Nothing bad can get to her here. This place is locked up tighter than a drum. There're security systems, guard patrols, _posted_ guards—"

"—Here and at the campsite," Ronon finished by rote. "I know. It's just – we thought the same thing on Atlantis." Though there had been no signs of danger here – the only time there _had_ been was when the Wraith, and then the giant _thing_ attacked. Two totally random – innocent by themselves, basically – incidents. There was nothing else untoward, nothing to suggest there would be an attack by _another_ enemy – a more _dangerous_ enemy. . .

Sheppard shook his head. "Okay. Come on, let's go."

Ronon stared. "Where?"

"Back to the campsite. You're not going to rest easy until we make sure that Teyla's okay. And it was bad enough you came out here without a military escort – so I'm going to military-escort you right back to the campsite. Then we'll come back – and who knows, maybe Teyla will be ready to come by then." Sheppard gave him a little shove. "Go on, go on."

Hand on the grip of his blaster, Ronon silently led the way back to camp. Sheppard chattered quietly the whole way there – it was a nervous habit. But Dex couldn't concentrate on his friend's words: the closer to camp they got, the more the hair on the back of his neck tried to prickle.

Upon his return, everything looked exactly like it had when Ronon left. He cut through the maze of tents – a small shortcut he'd discovered – to the med headquarters, Sheppard directly behind. Ducking, both men pushed through the closed flaps into the cool, artificially-lit interior of the tent.

A quick sweep revealed two rows of empty beds. "Doc? Teyla?" Ronon started down the aisle, looking around him desperately, his bad feeling getting worse.

"Over here!" Sheppard knelt in the front left corner of the tent, where a shadowy form lay next to him.

Ronon's heart sputtered and jerked until he realized the figure was slightly larger than Teyla, and masculine. "Doc?" he asked.

"Yeah. He's been conked over the head pretty good. But I think he'll be fine. Stay with him." Sheppard left, only to return less than a minute later with a nurse in tow. "Okay – come on."

Ronon, chafing at the small delay, shot out of the tent behind him. Already he could see the guards moving erratically through the woods, unlike their preset patrol patterns – they were searching. "She could be anywhere."

"Yeah – let's head toward the Ring. It makes sense they would have taken her there. . ."

Sheppard's voice trailed off as Ronon took off in a run. He knew it was stupid of him, to go off without his friend, but he had to. . .

"Sir! Over here!"

Ronon cut a sharp U-turn and met up with Sheppard. Together they followed the sound of the guard's calling voice.

A small clearing – more like a ten-by-ten break in the thick forest – became evident when they literally stumbled into it. Det. Lorne looked up, blue eyes wide, when Ronon and Sheppard appeared. "Teyla, sir," Lorne reported. "She's been beat up pretty good. There's a blood trail, and her knife is missing. Looks like she got whoever attacked her pretty good." He pointed to an evident trail of dark red, leading off into the woods in the general direction of the Ring. "Dewaly took a group and went in that direction. Hopefully, whoever he was, he bled out before he could reach the Ring. . ." He slowly trailed off as Ronon came to kneel next to Teyla. "We'll need the doc," he finished.

For the second time in as many days, Ronon found himself gently pushing strands of Teyla's hair away from her face. Shallow scratches and deeply-colored bruises scored her face and neck, and what parts of her arms and torso were bared by her shirt. Blood matted her hair, and still dripped lazily from a cut that had come dangerously close to her left eye.

"I'll get one of the other doctors!" Sheppard crashed off through the brush.

A deep buzzing roar built at the back of his skull. At first he thought he was going to pass out – why was that? – but then he realized he was seeing everything in sharper detail, with a clarity that couldn't come from hovering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Instinct seized him. Reaching out his hands, he placed one on her abdomen and the other on her forehead. Hunching protectively over her, he closed his eyes and concentrated. The roar escalated to a shriek, a deafening cacophony that nearly distracted him. Refusing to allow himself to be sidetracked, to do something wrong, he clenched his jaw and focused harder on his job.

So centered was he on his work, at first he didn't realize someone was calling his name. "Ronon! Ronon, stop!" Small hands folded around his wrists, gently pulling him away.

Ronon opened his eyes. The motion was numb, done more by instinct than conscious will. Everything wheeled around him; dizzily, he saw Teyla's unmarked face hovering in front of him. But she seemed also to be a great distance away. . .

This time, he rightly recognized the roar in his head for what it _should_ be. He _was_ going to pass out. "I-I—" He couldn't find any words to say. His tongue felt like it had been packed in cotton. His throat was on fire – it hurt to talk. Hurt to think. Hurt to _move_.

Arms folded around his shoulders as he slumped forward.

One last thought occurred to him, hazily, as he tumbled into the darkness. _Does this qualify as _freaky_?_

_-To Be Continued-_


	27. Limitations

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 27/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 26-

_Limitations_

* * *

Soft voices murmured close by, beckoning Ronon back to consciousness. Encompassing tiredness permeated his body to the bone; but his head felt clear. He pried one eye open, easily recognizing the interior of the med tent.

"You are awake!" Teyla's voice, low and cautious, came from his right.

Ronon rolled his head in that direction, relieved to see Teyla sitting on the floor next to his low cot. "You're okay," he marveled.

A small, strangled noise escaped her lips before she bent her head, pressing her face into the blanket. "You are _incorrigible!_" she exclaimed, voice muffled.

Puzzled, Ronon gently patted her silky hair. "What?" he asked. "You were – you looked – you were dying!" he finally managed.

Teyla's shoulders shook, from sobs or laughter Ronon wasn't sure. "Incorrigible!" she murmured again.

". . .What did I do?"

Her head shot up. "You do not _remember_?"

Ronon searched his memory, but only came up with vague images and residual emotions. "Not really. . ."

Teyla rubbed her forehead tiredly. "The Ancestors have a truly _strange_ sense of humor. I get the clairvoyance, and _you_ get the chivalrous healing powers."

Pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place in his mind now. "Oh." Following her cue, he kept his voice low as he spoke again. "You mean – I – _that's_ what happened."

Teyla cocked her head. "You – do not remember?"

"Kind of." He shrugged. "Just – vague images, memories. What happened to you?" He shifted to lie on his side so he could face her better.

Nervously, she shot a glance over her shoulder. Ronon followed her gaze and saw Dr. Beckett sitting at a desk in the back corner. He and a nurse were hunched over the portable computer – it appeared neither of them had noticed Ronon's awakening.

Teyla shifted a little closer and rested her head directly next to Ronon's on the mattress. "You _should_ be resting, but since you are so insistent I will tell you."

He tipped his head the little distance it took to rest it against hers. "Okay. I'm listening."

"While Dr. Beckett was examining me, I had another vision. I saw a Wraith come through the Ring and head directly for the dig site. I am not sure if his target was the ship we found or you. But, since I had the vision, I think its intended target was you."

"What happened?"

Teyla glanced over her shoulder to make sure the doctor and nurse were still occupied. "I went to find you, but before I could even leave the tent the Wraith came in. I do not know how he knew when the slowest time in the camp would be. All I saw, in my vision, was him coming after you – I did not know he would come for me, too. But I managed to prevent him by kicking up a fuss – he had to take me directly into the woods."

Ronon opened his mouth to protest. Teyla's hand folded over his mouth. "Shh," she warned. "I admit, that was a mistake on my part." She carefully pulled her hand away. "I tried to destroy him the same way I killed the one on the ship – I was hoping I could remember how. I remembered – but it would not work. There was something – _different _about his mind. I could not enter his mind. I could not even seem to _find_ his mind!" She shuddered. "I do not know if the Wraith have somehow found a defense against my – _powers_. Perhaps this one was just different. Either way – I hope there are not more of his kind."

"What happened? I mean, _how_ did you get hurt so badly?"

"When I could not defeat him like the other Wraith, I tried to fight him hand-to-hand. Unfortunately, he was – quite a bit stronger than I. Though I did manage to get out my knife and injure him. I do not remember much past that – just him fleeing. And then I woke up to you passing out." She bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder again. "You healed me."

Ronon avoided her gaze. "I thought we'd been over this already."

Teyla took his chin and turned his face toward her. "You are missing my point."

Cocking an eyebrow, he motioned for her to explain.

She shrugged out of her jacket and modestly tugged down the collar of her short-sleeved shirt. Where before the new, raw marks of a Wraith feeding wound had been, smooth and unmarked skin met his eyes now. She released her collar and tugged her jacket back on. "_That_ is what I meant. You did not just heal my injuries – you healed _everything_." She pointed to her leg. "I had – notice my use of the past tense – a scar on my leg from where I broke it very badly when I was six years old. The scar is gone now."

Ronon blinked rapidly. "You're—"

"I am not trying to say I am unthankful! Please do not misunderstand me. I merely wish to state that you overdid it – a little." Teyla slid her hand into his. "How are you feeling?"

"A little tired. Otherwise, I'm fine. I'd do it all over again if I had to."

A shadow passed through her eyes, but she chose not to remark on that. "We shall let Dr. Beckett be the judge of that, hmm?" Turning her upper body, Teyla called softly: "Dr. Beckett? Ronon is awake."

He half-veiled his eyes, wondering if he should act like he just woke up. The doctor smiled as he hurried over, kind blue eyes assessing him. "Hmm. You look no worse for the wear," Doc commented.

Ronon shrugged. "I'm a little tired, that's all. Other than that, I feel _fine_. Can I go now?"

Teyla's hand sharply contracted around his. He fought back a wince.

Beckett shone a little light in Ronon's eyes, then hummed a few times as he did a cursory examination. "Okay – as long as you promise to get rest."

"I promise he will," Teyla assured. Her hand, tight around his, offered no room for argument. "Any other instructions, Doctor?"

"I'm thinking not. Just come back and see me in the mornin' – _after_ ye've gotten some more rest. But if you have any unpleasant reactions to what ye did, come back before then. Understand?"

"Yes," Teyla answered for him again. "Thank you, Dr. Beckett."

Ronon nodded. "Very much." He squeezed Teyla's hand tightly.

Beckett made a shooing motion. "Get outta here – and get some sleep, the pair of ye."

**-Ronon's Tent-**

This time Teyla shared Ronon's tent, dragging her sleeping pad in to stretch it across the doorway. "This way, I will _know_ if you try to sneak out," she threatened.

Ronon, already half asleep on his own pallet, cracked open an eyelid. "Don't trust me?" he asked sleepily. He gave her an injured look.

"Not in this matter, at least."

They slept until the sun was well above the horizon. Teyla went to her tent to dress, then was waiting when Ronon exited his.

"Keeping tabs on me?" he asked her.

She casually took his hand as they headed to the med tent. "No," she said. "I just want to spend time with you, that is all."

Ronon shifted his hand so he could link his fingers with hers. "'Life is fragile, short, and sweet. So enjoy your breaths as long they come,'" he quoted softly.

Teyla looked up at him with a gentle smile. "That is wise advice," she said softly.

"My mother used to say it all the time," Ronon replied. "I always thought it was just a saying." He gently squeezed her hand. "But now I know the terrifying truth in that."

Tugging them to a stop just outside the med tent, Teyla gazed down at their joined hands, then up into his face. "We never know how much time we will have."

Ronon hugged her to him and kissed the crown of her head. "Forever or not, I'll always love you," he said, soft enough for her ears only.

"I will always love you, too." Teyla pulled back, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek. "It is time to go in."

Beckett greeted them with a tired smile, motioning for Ronon to sit so he could examine him. Teyla lingered outside the tent, waiting. Her soft humming flitted through the half-open doorway with a comfortable breeze.

"You don't look so good, Doc," Ronon commented.

Beckett's keen blue eyes briefly flashed up to Ronon's face, then back down to the data pad in his hands. "Aye, and aren't ye the observant one?" He sighed. "Sorry. That despicable thing that came in here yesterday and bopped me over the head – it's thrown me for quite a loop." He turned to his desk, setting the data pad on it as he continued to write.

Ronon glanced toward the doorway to the tent. Teyla, though quite close, was not within sight. It was only him and the doc in the tent. Overnight, in between fitful bursts of sleep, he'd thrown some ideas around in his mind. Teyla's power seemed to be centered directly on him, and he wondered if the same applied to him and her. . . "Hey, Doc?"

Beckett turned, one eyebrow arched. "Aye?"

"Can I – try something?"

Now he looked suspicious. "Try what?"

Ronon tossed another look to the door – still no Teyla. "I want to try to heal your head," he said softly.

The doc leaned away from him. "Uh-uh," he protested. "I saw what happened to ye when you went and healed the lass, and—"

Sighing, Ronon held up a hand to stop the doctor. "I want to _try_, that's all. Teyla's power seems to be centered on me – I'm curious to know whether mine is the same way about her, or if it's generalized."

Beckett, still staring warily at him, seemed to be considering the offer. "I – _guess_ it wouldn't hurt for you to _try_," he stressed. "As long as ye only try. Your body doesn't need that kind o' trauma two days in a row."

Nurses stood by, just in case something went wrong. Ronon awkwardly placed his hand atop the doctor's head, closed his eyes, and concentrated like he had when he healed Teyla. But the overwhelming power and clarity he'd felt before refused to come, no matter how much he tried to call it to him.

At last he pulled away. "Sorry, Doc," he said. He felt disappointed and pleased, all at once.

Beckett shrugged. "I wasn't expectin' it to work, anyway," he said. He went back to his desk, shooing nurses off as he went. "It would appear ye and the lass have been granted something very, very special."

Ronon tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "Can I go now?"

"Aye." The doctor made another vague shooing motion, already engrossed in his work.

Ronon beat a hasty retreat, not longing to linger. Teyla stood, continuing to hold his hand after he helped her up. "What did he say?"

"I'm fine. And – apparently my power is limited to healing your bumps and bruises." They made their way down the trail toward the dig site, still hand in hand, but wary of anything that might try to attack them.

"Hmm," Teyla said. "It would appear we are limited to each other. I wonder why that is?"

"It's confusing," he agreed. "I can see its usefulness, considering the way our lives are right now. But – wouldn't it also be helpful if our abilities went beyond just _us_?"

Teyla shrugged. "It would seem so. But is it really _our_ job to question the Ancestors?"

"No," Ronon admitted grudgingly. "It's not."

When they reached the hub of activity around the downed Wraith ship, Ronon and Teyla realized the area had expanded. They'd managed to extend the uncovered portion of the ship to encompass most of the clearing – and the ship.

"It is a lot smaller than I expected," Teyla said.

"It's just a Cruiser," Ronon replied grimly. "The Hives are unimaginably large."

Two big, awed brown eyes turned in his direction. "You have seen a _Hive_?"

"Once." It was not an experience he was anxious to repeat. "Come on." Ronon gently pulled her after him toward Sheppard, who stood at one of the best lookout points. "Anything exciting going on?"

"Not really." Sheppard offered a sloppy salute to Ronon and politely bowed his head at Teyla. "Just a lot of wildlife and choking jungle." The colonel eyed Dex with one quirked eyebrow. "Well, I must say it's nice to know you're on your feet again."

"Yeah. Doc gave me a clean bill of health just a little bit ago." He squeezed Teyla's hand. "Apparently my abilities are like Teyla's – it's limited to her, like her visions are limited to me."

"What is happening with the dig?" Teyla questioned. "It looks so – different."

John rolled his eyes. "Elizabeth has been organizing everyone into dig teams. She's trying to unearth the whole thing. I say it's been here so long part of it is still buried underneath us here – and under the trees."

"Cruisers aren't _that_ big," Ronon protested. "If it were a Hive, I'd agree. But a Cruiser – nah. It's probably just here in the clearing."

"Regardless, everyone's been taking shifts digging. McKay's in the ship right now with a team, trying to figure out the ins and outs of its computers and such. I don't think he's having much luck – he keeps coming out cursing and demanding more equipment. He also asked for more power, too – but I don't know if he means the machine kind, or the personal kind." He winked.

Ronon chuckled. Then, seriously, he said, "I wonder if there're more of 'em out there?" He motioned toward the jungle stretching before them, idly taking one step forward as he did so, half-intending to go investigate the area right then.

He stopped immediately when Teyla gasped and clutched at her head, falling into him. Quickly catching her by the shoulders, he eased her down into a sitting position. "What's wrong?" he demanded.

Teyla pushed his hands away, eyes sweeping around the area with no seeming purpose. At last they focused on the jungle beyond Sheppard's shoulder, terror evident in her expression. "Do not go there!" she gasped out.

"Why not?" Sheppard, one hand on her knee, asked. Ronon tightened the arm he had around her shoulders, trying to lend her support.

"No, you will die! It will kill you, the invader!" she cried, panicked. Her gaze turned from the jungle to Ronon, then back around. "The creature!" she explained. "Its nest – its nest is in there!"

_-To Be Continued-_


	28. System Error

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairings, etc.

Part 28/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 27-

_System Error_

* * *

As yet another vision added itself to the horrible group already in her mind, Teyla tried to relax her stiff muscles and calm her erratic breathing. Sheppard stared at her with wide eyes, and to her side Ronon looked like he was going to try to use his healing power on her again, though there was nothing wrong. She gently pushed his hand away. "I am fine. I am fine," she repeated.

"What was that about?" he demanded.

Teyla rubbed her forehead tiredly. "You made up your mind to go into the jungle, to look for something," she said. "That is when I saw the change – the nest, and the creature, and then blood everywhere." She gulped.

Ronon exchanged a glance with John. "Well, I suppose that explains why it attacked the dig site the other day," he said grimly. "We're a little too close to home for them."

Teyla carefully hitched herself a little further away from the jungle. "That presents another question," she said.

Sheppard and Ronon stared at her curiously. "What?" the former asked.

"Should we continue to work and leave ourselves in danger? Or should we abandon the dig site to keep these people safe?"

"Ugh." John dragged his hands down his face. "McKay is _so_ going to hate this. He and his team have been making 'leaps and bounds' advancements in their research. To make them quit now. . ." He shook his head.

"But we could be saving lives," Teyla protested. "This _is_ a creature to be reckoned with. I cannot tell if it is deliberately malevolent, or just defending its nest. To be truthful, I would rather not find out."

"Good point." Sheppard gave her a brotherly pat on the knee, then stood and headed off in the direction of the Cruiser.

"Can you stand?" Ronon asked, shifting his arm around her shoulders.

"Yes. I am fine, Ronon." She accepted his hand up and stood, gaze still focused on the jungle. "Just slightly concerned about what I saw." Teyla wondered hopefully if Ronon's power worked for himself, too. It would be nice, but doubtful.

"What did you see?" He sounded hesitant but curious.

Teyla rubbed her forehead again, hating the throbbing behind her eyes that was sure to turn into a migraine. "You have to ask?" she asked testily.

"I guess not." Ronon took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Sorry."

She slid a glance in the direction of the dig site, then leaned forward and wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. "Just please be careful about the decisions you make," she begged.

"Okay. Sounds fair." His lips brushed her hair. "You gonna be okay?"

"I believe so, yes." Teyla gathered her scattered strength, lifting her head from his chest and the reassuring beat of his heart. "As soon as we get these people to safety." She touched her forehead, frustrated. "I wish I could see _everyone's_ futures, sometimes. Then I would know how this will turn out."

"There's a reason for this," Ronon replied. "I won't pretend to know what it is – but there _is_ a reason we're like we are."

"What is that?" Teyla wasn't sure where the question came from – but she did know she was talking about more than their new, strange powers.

Ronon caught the hidden meaning in her words. Regarding her solemnly, he raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. "Exactly what we're supposed to be."

It was not the time to be having this meaning-of-our-relationship conversation, but Teyla _wanted_ to. So she let it go after one last comment. "I – think that's good enough for me."

Grinning, Ronon took her hand and pulled her after him toward the entrance to the Wraith ship. Sheppard had gathered a team to organize the rapid packing and evacuation of the site. Things appeared to be well in hand.

"How much longer?" Ronon asked.

"Not too much, I hope. We're evacuating the ship last. McKay insisted on having the extra time – he thinks he's on the edge of a 'major breakthrough.'" Sheppard rolled his eyes. "We'll see about that."

Ronon and Teyla crouched at the mouth of the ship, looking down into the opening. Where once it had been pitch black inside, now the walls were lit with a low glow. Teyla couldn't tell if the light was from the scientists getting the systems back online, or if they'd brought their own lights with them.

"How's it going down there, Dr. Zelenka?" Ronon called.

A man with glasses and wild brown hair responded to the hail. Squinting up at them, he waved half-heartedly. "Rodney is stressed, so whole team is stressed," he said in a heavy accent Teyla didn't recognize. "He keeps yelling at us 'hurry up, hurry up, we have no time!' Pah." He rolled his eyes. "We'll find something, I'm sure. Excuse me." He hurried off to answer a thunderous hail from deeper in the ship.

Ronon shared a glance with Teyla, shrugging noncommittally. "Well, I guess that's that," he said. "I hope Dr. McKay is aware of just _how_ short his time is running."

Teyla swallowed back a sudden shiver. The phrasing of Ronon's casual words could have more than one meaning. "I hope so," she said.

His expression changed as he reached out for her. "Another vision? Don't fall into the ship!"

She pushed his hands away. "No. I am fine." Teyla looked forward to going back to her tent and brewing some tea to help with her headache. "But I _will_ feel a lot better when everyone is safely back at the camp."

Sheppard hurried over to kneel next to them. "That's the last of 'em," he said.

Elizabeth knelt next to him, offering him an apologetic smile when he narrowed his eyes at her. "Except, of course, for the science team," she said.

John rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised _you're_ not down there yourself."

The archeologist smiled angelically. "I can go down if you want me to. But be assured it will be a while before I surface again."

"Why do I even bother opening my mouth?" Leaning down, Sheppard stuck his head and half of his torso into the ship. "Hey, McKay!" he yelled. "Hurry it up down there, it's time to go!" His voice echoed eerily into the distance, then faded to nothingness. The moment his voice stopped echoing, a shrieking alarm began to wail. Jerking his head out of the ship, Sheppard swore and banged his fist against the ground. "Crap! What's he done now?"

Ronon shifted and grabbed the top of the rope ladder. "Sounds like trouble." He hesitated and glanced at Teyla, eyebrows raised.

Dread swelled in her throat, but no visions struck her. "I do not see anything," she said. "But I am coming, too."

Though it looked like he wanted to argue, Ronon wisely kept silent. He lowered himself down into the ship, jumping the last six rungs to the ground. Teyla watched as he scanned the immediate area, weapon drawn, as she descended the ladder, Sheppard right behind her.

"_You_ stay up there!" John yelled up to Elizabeth. "I mean it! There could be trouble down here."

Dr. Weir sighed but obeyed. "Holler if you need me to send more backup!" she called.

"Will do."

Weapons drawn, the three ventured further into the ship. The alarm had settled to a mournful wail, though it was still quite piercing. Teyla flexed her hands on the grip of her weapon, hoping she wouldn't have to use it. She was _sure_ all the Wraith were gone!

Footsteps pounded down the hall toward them. Teyla, Ronon, and Sheppard froze, weapons up and ready to fire.

"Don't shoot!" McKay yelled as he barreled around the corner, the rest of his science team only steps behind him. "Go, go – get out, go!"

None of them hesitated. Herding the science team ahead of her, Teyla rushed them all toward the exit. "What happened?" she asked.

McKay darted a glance at her over his shoulder. "I was so close to getting most of the major systems back online, and I thought we might be able to use the ship if I could. You know – fly it and things." He paused to hurry up the ladder, then continued as they pounded back down the trail toward camp. "That's when I realized I'd activated the wrong system!"

"What'd you do?!" Sheppard demanded. They emerged in the comforting surroundings of the camp, and they all doubled over to plant their hands on their knees and catch their breaths.

"I activated the self-destruct," McKay gasped out. "But – that's not all. I did. I should warn you right now, we need to get out of here because—"

He didn't have the opportunity to finish. The ground rocked beneath them, throwing them all down, as a massive explosion lit up the sky.

_-To Be Continued-_


	29. Ancient Goldeneye

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 29/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 28-

_Ancient Goldeneye_

* * *

Ronon hit the ground only a breath before Teyla, who landed on top of him. Her body sprawled, as if she were trying to protect him; he immediately rolled, placing himself over her.

As the sounds of the uncomfortably close explosion faded away, Teyla hissed in frustration beneath him. "Chivalrous!" she said, as if it was a bad thing.

Ignoring her irritated reaction, he lifted his head to meet Sheppard's eyes. "That was a big bang," the latter noted.

"Yeah." Ronon scrambled to his feet, gently pulling Teyla up with him. "You okay?"

"I am fine." Teyla dusted her clothes off, squinting at the cloud of smoke obscuring the farther reaches of the jungle. "I am relieved the effects of that explosion did not reach the camp."

Rodney, still on his knees, nodded in agreement. "I was kinda worried it would," he said. "You know, Cruiser or not, that self-destruct probably packs quite a wallop, and—"

"Shut up, McKay." Sheppard didn't turn around. "We need to see if there's a fire – and, if there is, get it under control." He ran off, barking orders.

"I do not believe it is a good idea to go back in there," Teyla murmured. "Particularly if that explosion damaged the creature's nest."

"Is no one listening to me? Does no one _understand_ how much bigger than that this is?" Rodney scrambled to his feet, coming around to stand in front of them. "Are you listening?"

"What, McKay?" Ronon asked tiredly.

"There's a _reason_ why the self-destruct went off! –Yes, other than that I accidentally activated the wrong system! I did more than activate that system!"

Coldness permeated Ronon to the bone, doubled by a chill of instinct. He knew what was coming next. "What did you do?"

McKay avoided his gaze. "I accidentally activated the distress beacon?"

"Distress beacon." Weir's choked voice came from the other side of Teyla. "The _distress_ _beacon_. As in the _Wraith_ will be coming _here_?!"

"That would be why I said we have to evacuate immediately!" McKay snapped. "Look, I don't think it was broadcasting for _that_ long before the self-destruct destroyed it. We don't even know if there are any ships close enough to receive the signal! It could be nothing, but to be safe. . ."

Ronon ran his hands down his face. "Great. Just great."

"Why do we have to evacuate?" Sheppard asked. Apparently he'd heard Rodney yelling clear across the campsite.

"Because the Wraith are coming," Elizabeth said in a low, dangerous voice. "Dr. McKay activated the distress beacon."

Sheppard stared incredulously for a moment, then spun. "Belay that! You, you, and you – get teams together and start packing all this up! We're evacuating!"

"If only there were a way to find out for sure if there were any ships around that _did_ receive the distress call," Elizabeth sighed. "Then we'd know if we had to evacuate this place or not."

Rodney looked thoughtful. Ronon, catching his expression, sighed and asked, "What, is there a way?"

"Maybe," McKay responded. "I'll need to go back to Atlantis, but. . ."

"Go," Elizabeth said. "Come back as soon as you can." After McKay ran off with a military escort, she shrugged at Ronon and Teyla. "At least we'll know if there's any activity in the area. And if we need to make even _more_ haste packing all this up." She motioned to the tents and things around them.

The three separated, going to join separate teams to help with the packing. Ronon and Teyla had no sooner started on their first tent when a loud hail drew their attention. "Teyla Emmagan! Is Teyla Emmagan here?"

Teyla straightened next to him and turned. "What is Kanaan doing here?" There was a definite growl in her voice, and her steps were stiff as she went to meet him. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

Ronon sidled up behind her, keeping a casually looming presence at her shoulder. He'd witnessed Kanaan and Teyla's behavior before, and wanted to be ready to break up another fight – whoever was the instigator.

Kanaan doubled over, planting his hands on his knees and gasping in breaths. "We have – a problem," he reported. "It – is Charin. She—"

Teyla took Kanaan by the lapels of his jacket and yanked him back into a standing position. "What about her? Where is she?"

The Athosian knocked her hands away, taking a step back. "Stop it! She is asking for your presence and sent me to bring you. She has invoked the right of a Ring Ceremony, and wishes you to preside."

Ronon caught Teyla's shoulders as she stumbled back into him. "What's wrong?" he asked. It frustrated him, not knowing the significance of those words. If only he knew more about Teyla's culture. . . But there had been little time to ask such questions.

"Charin is – is – oh, Ancestors." Teyla was obviously on the edge of hysteria, of losing control of her emotions right then. "Return to Athos immediately and tell her I am coming." She turned to go, spun back when Kanaan began to protest. "_Go_, Kanaan!"

The Athosian didn't argue this time.

Ronon followed her. "Are we going back to New Athos?"

Teyla nodded. "Yes. The Ring Ceremony – it is – a celebration among our people to honor the dead. A ring is placed around the body – symbolizing the Ring of the Ancestors – and—" She ran a hand through her hair. "We celebrate that the deceased died a natural death, not by the hands of the Wraith. It is rare."

"So Charin is—" Even though Ronon didn't know the old woman well, he found an echo of Teyla's pain inside him. She'd done so much for them. . .

"Yes. Soon. I-I have to be there. She is – like family." Teyla grabbed Sheppard's arm as he darted past. "I must go to New Athos," she said quickly. "I apologize for leaving at such a bad time, but—"

"Someone very close to her is dying," Ronon said softly.

John gauged Teyla's expression, then nodded. "Go," he said. "We'll wait for you here." He shifted his gaze to Ronon. "Go with her," he said as Teyla ran off. "She'll need you."

Ronon clenched his friend's shoulder tightly, a warrior's grip. "Thank you, brother," he said.

Sheppard waved him off. "Go," he said. "You'll have trouble catching her up."

Throwing another word of thanks over his shoulder, Ronon followed Teyla into the jungle toward the Ring. "Teyla, slow down!" he called. "The cave – you'll trip and hurt yourself."

Teyla grudgingly slowed to allow him to catch up. When they reached the mouth of the Ring's sheltered cave, Ronon clicked on his flashlight to guide their steps. He held the light steady as Teyla dialed New Athos; then they stepped through together.

An Athosian Ronon vaguely recognized – Halling? – waited for them Athos-side. "Hurry," he said to Teyla, completely ignoring Ronon. "There is not much time left."

The short run through the jungle to the new settlement left Ronon and Teyla out of breath and sticky with sweat. Halling left them at the entrance to Charin's tent, and Ronon hesitated outside as Teyla went to duck in. He was sure he wasn't invited.

"Come," Teyla said, grabbing his hand to pull him after her. "Charin will want to see you, too."

Charin's tent smelled of tea, stew, and strong incense. Ronon suddenly felt a pang of homesickness, which surprised him. After all this time he hadn't thought of his home, of Michaela, but something about this setting and these scents reminded him of his childhood on Sateda.

The healer Ronon hadn't noticed was there bowed softly and withdrew from the tent as Teyla broke his reverie, pulling him after her to kneel by Charin's bedside. "Charin," she said softly. "It is Teyla and Ronon."

The old woman's eyelids lifted. "Ah," she sighed. "You came." She smiled at Teyla, and then at Ronon. "It makes me happy, in the end, to see you such." She reached out a wrinkled hand to place it over the couples' joined hands. "You will help each other, for things are going to get harder from here."

Teyla's hand tightened on Ronon's as she reached up her other to lay it on Charin's arm. "I still need you," she begged. "I do not know what to do – what to say—" She bit her lip.

Charin's smile faded a little. "Teyla, my dear. You have your people, and your new friends from the great Ancestral City. And you have Ronon – you do not need an old lady like me any more." A spark of her old personality rekindled in her tired eyes. "It is time you relegate your family to memories, and create a family of your own."

Teyla shuddered. Tears filled her eyes and trickled down her cheeks; she folded her lips against the sobs Ronon felt building in her body. "I do not want you to just be a memory," she finally whispered.

Charin's eyelids slowly began to lower. "_Whom_ you seek lies in each other," she whispered. Her voice faded, but her final words were still strongly audible. "_What _you seek lies beneath the nest." She lifted her hand, returning it to rest with the other on her stomach. "Love you both."

Teyla turned to bury her face in his chest as Charin died. He felt her tears soak his shirt, and more than a few of his own dripped into her hair. This sweet lady, who had done so much for Teyla – and for him – was gone.

And the most frustrating thing of all was that Ronon could do nothing about it. He knew he had the power to heal inside him, but he was useless to everyone but Teyla. Right then, he wasn't sure he was even useful to her.

**-New Athos-**

Ronon stayed on the outskirts of the ceremonies honoring Charin's death. He felt like an outsider, an invader upon these ancient, private proceedings. As soon as politely possible, Teyla dragged him away from New Athos, back in the direction of the Ring.

"Don't you want to stay longer?" Ronon asked her.

"No." Teyla didn't even look at him as she spoke.

Taking her by the shoulders, Ronon pulled her to a stop. "Look at me, Teyla," he commanded. When she reluctantly lifted her eyes to his, he eased his hands down her arms to take hers. "I don't want you to miss something important, something relevant to grieving for Charin, even just time with your people, for some perceived duty."

Teyla looked away, back toward the settlement. Soft, mournful music and murmured voices drifted in their direction, but she seemed little affected. "No," she said softly. "To be truthful, Charin was the last tie I had to the Athosians. They will always be my people, but – I am doing this for them. So the deaths of future generations will mean something, will be honored with Ring Ceremonies, not empty graves and violent, greatly-numbered deaths." She swallowed hard. "I must do this, Ronon. _This_ is my way."

Ronon kissed her forehead and nodded. "If you're sure."

"I am." There was no uncertainty in her voice.

"Okay then." They resumed their journey, exiting in the now-familiar cave of the new world they had temporarily called home. The short, silent trek through the jungle seemed to stretch longer than normal, and the normal hustle-and-bustle of the campsite was strangely quiet, empty, when they arrived.

Sheppard awaited them with Elizabeth and a guard. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said softly to Teyla, touching her shoulder as Elizabeth wrapped the Athosian in a hug.

"She died peacefully," Teyla murmured. "She was not afraid. It is an honored way to end life's journey."

Ronon swallowed hard, echoes of Teyla's sweet but choked voice singing softly in his mind. The lyrics of the song she'd sung still haunted him, and he knew they would for a long time into the future.

A moment of awkwardness fell over the group before Teyla spoke again. "I see you got the camp nicely packed in our absence," she said, voice strong. "Has Dr. McKay returned yet?"

Sheppard shook his head, looking relieved at the subject of their new discussion. "Not yet. We expect him back soon, though."

"How much damage is there at the dig?" Ronon asked.

"Come see," Elizabeth said. Then she hesitated and glanced at Teyla, who looked to Ronon.

"I see no trouble," she said softly. "It should be safe for us to go."

They silently made their way down the trail toward the dig, a security team closely shadowing their movements. They all had to stop abruptly, however, sooner than expected.

A deep, multi-leveled hole gaped open before them. It looked like a giant had punched the ground, then allowed it to sag limply. The charred remains of grass and trees, and a few stray curls of smoke, spoke of the severity of what had happened.

Ronon whistled, long and low. "Wow. That was quite a bang."

"The loss of a perfectly good dig," Elizabeth mourned.

John patted her shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find others – maybe not on this planet, but—"

Something had been nagging at Ronon ever since he and Teyla had come back. He knew it was important, but he couldn't remember what it was – until Sheppard's comment. "She might have a chance on this planet, actually," he said.

Everyone turned to look at him, their expressions questioning his sanity.

"Teyla, do you remember – what Charin said?" he asked gently. He didn't want to aggravate her new grief.

But her expression was strangely thoughtful. "I think so. '_Whom_ you seek lies in each other,'" she quoted.

"And '_what _you seek lies beneath the nest,'" Ronon finished. "She must mean the creature's nest."

Sheppard almost choked. "_The Thing_'s nest? As in, the one place on this whole planet we're _not_ supposed to go?"

"If we are wrong – this could be disastrous," Teyla said, showing no signs of having heard the colonel.

"But, if we're right – maybe a few things will start to make _sense_," Ronon said. "It could go either way."

Elizabeth had brightened at the mention of a new dig site, but wilted when she heard _where_ exactly it would be located. "After all this time we've spent _avoiding_ this thing, you want to stroll right up to its _nest_?"

Teyla sighed. "We do not know what kind of damage was done to it," she said. "It is possible that it – and the creature – was destroyed when the Wraith ship exploded."

"Possible, but probably not _likely_," Sheppard said. "You're both crazy! Just as likely as it having been destroyed, is it being damaged and _really_ hacking that thing off! I _really_ don't think we want to incur its wrath again."

"We might not have a _choice_." Teyla's gaze wandered toward the jungle, in the direction of the nest. "If Charin was right, and something important is there – we need to find it."

Sheppard sighed. "Destinies, creatures, and crazies, oh my," he said softly.

Despite his protests, they were soon on the way to the nest with a heavily-armed escort. They'd try to scope the area out first, to see if the creature was there or not.

"See anything?" Ronon asked Teyla.

She caught his meaning immediately. "No. Is your decision final?"

"As final as I can make it. We're on our way to the nest, right?"

"Yes." Teyla nervously chewed her lower lip. "I hope my clairvoyance has not chosen this crucial time to desert me."

Ronon squeezed her hand reassuringly. "It'll be fine," he told her. "You'll see."

A small team went in first to check the nest, skies, and surrounding area. One returned. "Nothing, sir," he reported to Sheppard. "Area looks secure."

"What about the nest?" John questioned.

"Looks only slightly damaged, but not uninhabitable," the soldier replied. "There's something in there – but it's not the creature."

"It _is_ The Thing's nest," Elizabeth said. "It's probably laid eggs."

"Beautiful," Sheppard muttered. "Okay, we are going to do this as _fast_ as possible. Quick in, dig, get out. We might have to make two or three trips to get this done."

Guards were stationed to watch the skies as everyone else got to work. They very carefully slid a net under the massive nest (more than twenty feet in diameter _at least_! Ronon noted), using a series of rope pulleys to lift it from the ground so they could dig. Instinct told everyone to hurry through the job, but they forced themselves to be careful and move slowly. If indeed there _was_ something important buried beneath the nest, they didn't want to damage it.

"I've got something!" one of the diggers called. "It's hard – seems metallic!"

"Oh, here we go again," Ronon muttered. He moved with the others to help clear the dirt away from the area.

This time, instead of dull grey veined with blue, Ronon found a flat surface lightly colored in hues of tan, blue, and green. He immediately recognized the colors and patterns, as did Sheppard and Elizabeth across from him. "This is Ancient!" they all three breathed.

"Ancestral technology." Teyla sank back on her heels and stared. "How did it get _here_?"

"Look out!"

Ronon heard the shout only seconds before a massive rush of air nearly bowled them all over. "It's back!" he cried grimly.

Gunfire began to clatter as the horrendously familiar screech of the Creature echoed deafeningly around them. Above, he heard one of the ropes snap, as if great pressure had been applied to it.

"Go!" he yelled. "Evacuate the area! Go, go, go!" He dropped his shovel, gun drawn and ready to fire before the tool hit the ground. Looking up, he saw a huge black shadow blot out the early-morning sky. One of the lights they'd been using to brighten the area shattered.

"There's _two_ of 'em!" someone – Sheppard? – screamed. "Everyone, _go_, now!" More gunfire.

Debris from the nest rained down as one of the creatures landed in the nest. The ropes and net groaned under the pressure, and more ropes snapped. The nest lurched unsteadily, listing sideways as Ronon threw himself backwards.

"Ronon!" He was suddenly aware of Teyla's hand dragging at his arm, trying to propel him toward the cover of the jungle. "Come on, Ronon!"

Furious gold eyes, cut in the center with slit black pupils, filled his field of vision. Hot, rancid breath washed over him as another scream battered his ears. He lifted his gun, aiming for the center of that enormous head between those lethal gold eyes, and pulled the trigger.

_-To Be Continued-_


	30. Existence

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 30/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 29-

_Existence_

* * *

The Creature's golden eyes blinked rapidly as its head jerked back from the impact of Ronon's shot. It screamed again, a high-pitched shriek of agony. More ropes broke overhead, little popping noises that blended with the continuing sounds of gunshots.

Teyla pulled him back more, away from the impact area of the nest. As the last rope snapped, the nest and the Creature crashed to the ground. Ronon planted his feet, pulling Teyla to a stop next to him as he re-aimed the gun. The Creature, in the process of throwing its head back in an attempt to take off again, bared its long neck to the Satedan. He took advantage, shooting it in its throat.

A muted gurgling sound escaped its sharp, curved beak. It swayed on its feet for a moment, massive wings extending and contracting unsteadily.

_It's coming down._ Ronon grabbed Teyla's hand and pulled her after him into the woods. The ground shuddered and heaved, nearly knocking them off their feet again, when the Creature hit the ground. Its beak opened and shut, its head weakly moving in their direction, single-mindedly still trying to kill them though it was dying itself.

Above them, the other Creature swooped and snapped, sharp claws raking at whatever it could get close to. Its agitation increased when it saw its fellow fall; the head – only slightly smaller than the other's – swiveled toward Ronon and Teyla, dark ocher eyes locking on them. The entire body – speckled brown, white, and black – twisted in midair to dive toward them.

Backup arrived at that moment, in the form of Lorne and a really big gun. Without asking, Ronon snatched it out of the detective's hands. Settling it on his shoulder, he sighted down the barrel to the Creature's head, praying for a clear shot as his finger yanked the trigger.

The weapon bucked, knocking Ronon back as a projectile exited the barrel with explosive force. Unfortunately, the Creature saw it coming and twisted again, trying to escape. It didn't move fast enough, however, and the missile struck its wing and exploded. Screaming, the winged giant lost its ability to use its left wing, which hung limp and torn at its side. It torpedoed toward the ground, where it joined its mate on the ground. A team converged, pumping as much ammunition as possible into the bodies of both Creatures.

For now, the threat was over.

When the two were pronounced dead, Ronon and Teyla ventured to get a closer look. Upon closer look, Ronon realized they were giant birds – bigger than anything he imagined could exist. The slightly smaller one was the female, Ronon assumed. He figured that was the one who kept attacking them – first at the campsite, then again at the dig. They'd never know for sure, now.

Sheppard whistled as he came alongside. "Wow," he said. "No wonder your back looked like it'd been through a shredder, Ronon. These things are _huge_."

"I'm glad they can't endanger us anymore – but I'm sorry we had to kill them," Ronon said. He didn't look in the direction of the destroyed nest. Now that the parents were dead, he wondered if the babies would live or die – or if the eggs had even survived the nest's destruction.

Elizabeth stepped forward, placing her hand on the head of the larger Creature. "Wow," she said softly. "This looks like a cross between the – supposedly – mythical flying birds of ancient times, and a pterodactyl – the flying dinosaur!" She stretched up on her tiptoes and reached, the tips of her fingers barely brushing the top of the bird's head. "It's this crest that gives it away," she said. "Built like a pterodactyl, but it looks like a giant bird. Hmm." She went to examine the other, murmuring to herself the whole time.

John shrugged and sighed. "Okay, that's that. We need to get these things and what's left of the nest out of here, though. We need to uncover the rest of what you found, Ronon."

"I'm trying to decide if I _want_ to," he said. "After the _last_ thing we found. . ."

"You said yourself it's Ancient," Sheppard said. "As long as that's a prevailing factor, I don't see where we'll have a problem."

"Yes – but what is it doing _here_, and this close to a downed Wraith ship?" Teyla asked.

Ronon and Sheppard turned to stare at her. "Good point," Sheppard drawled. "I guess we'll have to wait and see." He went to organize teams to clear out the area so they could continue to dig.

Teyla squinted up at the sky, her brows drawn together over her worried eyes. "I certainly hope there are no more of those _creatures_ around here," she said.

"Me too. The last thing we need is another attack on the dig, the campsite, or anyone _anywhere_, for that matter." Taking her arm, Ronon pulled her a little farther away from the others. "There's something else I've been thinking about," he said softly. "Aren't you worried that time may be running out, and we're nowhere _near_ ready to face – certain things?"

Teyla nervously brushed stray strands of hair behind her ear. "Why else would we have been given these – powers?" she asked. "All these things that keep happening to us – they _have_ to have _some_ purpose. And I believe that purpose is to prepare us for whatever is going to happen."

"Whatever that is." Ronon glanced back at their new dig site, his stomach feeling terribly unsettled. "_Whenever_ that is."

"In some ways I hope it is far into the future. In others – I hope it comes soon. Waiting is – wearying." She looked away, nervously wrapping her arms around her middle. "However this turns out," she began hesitantly, "I want you to know that – I—" Her voice faltered

Ronon caught her chin and lifted her head up. "Look at me. You read my mother's letter. 'I cannot promise you an easy journey, but I can promise you that you will be happy together, eventually,'" he quoted. He'd been hanging on to that part of Michaela's letter religiously ever since he'd first met Teyla. "I know that can be interpreted more than one way, but— I choose to think it means we'll both be okay." He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "That _you'll_ be okay."

Teyla rested her head on his chest briefly, but said nothing. It surprised him – in the past, when he'd said something to that effect, she'd come back with some quick response about chivalry or such. This time she just hugged him tightly, then pulled away and glanced toward their new dig. "We should go help," she said softly. She walked off without waiting for him to respond.

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Ronon reluctantly followed her. Ancestors only knew what she had planned now.

**-Dig Site-**

It took almost the _entire_ day, but the teams finally got the site clean. Elizabeth insisted on having the birds transported back to the campsite for further study, and the half-destroyed eggs with them. The remains of the nest were cleared out and dumped in the jungle a little ways away from the dig.

Once the site was clean, they were able to start digging again. More guards were posted, but the tension level had eased quite a bit among the workers. With both birds dead, they weren't much worried about more appearing to attack them. They had _other_ things to be concerned about now.

The teams worked in shifts, night and day, to uncover the Ancient object that had been discovered. By the time Ronon and Teyla were convinced to go to their tents to get some sleep, they were both so tired they had to support each other back to the campsite. After five hours of sleep, they were back on the job.

Teyla leaned back, massaging the cramped, aching muscles in her lower back. Though she'd lived in an agrarian society her entire life, she wasn't used to _this_ much work. She was gaining a whole new appreciation for the work archeologists did every day.

"Hey!" cried one of the workers. "Dr. Weir, take a look at this!"

Elizabeth threaded her way over to the young woman, who scooted over to make room for the archeologist. "Ronon! Teyla! Could you come here a moment, please?"

Ronon paused next to her, offering a hand. She gladly took it, allowing him to pull her up. She groaned when her stiff, sore muscles protested the movement. Keeping hold of her hand, her soulmate offered her an empathetic look as they worked their way over to Dr. Weir. "What's going on?" Ronon asked for them both.

"Have a look at this." Using a soft brush, Weir gently swished away some more dirt. "It's another ship."

Sheppard appeared next to Teyla at that moment. Eyebrows quirking, he let out a long, low whistle. "Whoa," he said. "That's one of the jumpers like we use on Atlantis."

"How'd it get here, though?" Elizabeth thoughtfully tapped the brush against her opposite hand. "This just keeps getting stranger and stranger."

"There's a reason it's here," Ronon said. "We won't pretend to know _exactly_ why – but it's important. That much we know."

John shook his head. "You guys are strange," he said. "But I will admit everything that's going on around here does seem to have some degree of relationship to you guys."

The work effort redoubled then. Within a few more hours, they'd uncovered most of the aft section, including the hatch. "Here comes the problem," Elizabeth said, hands on hips. "How are we going to get this thing open?"

McKay, who'd been "supervising" the uncovering of the forward section, hurried toward them. "Step aside!" he declared. "I'll—"

Before he could reach them, the latch hissed open and the ramp began to lower. Everyone turned to look at Sheppard, who smiled and shrugged innocently. "I've worked with these things a lot," he said.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Thinks he can do _anything_ with a ship," the scientist snarked.

Teyla, Ronon, Weir, Sheppard, and McKay crowded around the opening, peering inside. Ronon and Teyla went in first, with Sheppard just a step behind. As soon as the Atlantian colonel entered the ship, it began to power up. "This is weird," Ronon commented.

The back of the jumper seemed to be very crowded. A consol of some sort stood in the middle of the compartment, and taking up what was left of the right side was a long pod of some sort. McKay scooted past them, then through the little space between the bench and the middle device. Going around, he knelt next to the pod-looking thing.

"I wonder what this is." Sheppard, careful not to touch it, leaned over the center device. "I've never seen something like this in a jumper before."

Ronon stuck his head through the doorway separating the rear part of the ship from the pilot's compartment. "Other than those two things, this looks like a regular ship."

"Uh – _not_ a regular ship," McKay announced nervously. "_Not_ a regular ship in _any_ sense of the word!"

Everyone turned to look at him. Eyes wide, face pale, Rodney announced: "_This_ is an Ancient life pod. And it's reading one life sign inside."

_-To Be Continued-_


	31. Debate

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 31/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 30-

_Debate_

* * *

The three people with guns in the jumper immediately pointed their weapons at the life pod. Elizabeth slowly backed toward the doorway of the ship, gaze focused on McKay, who – surprisingly enough – didn't look frightened. In fact, he looked disgusted.

"Did I happen to mention that the life sign is _hibernating_?" he demanded. "As in _it can't hurt anyone like this?_"

"It could wake up," Sheppard said. "There's that chance."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Unless I press the metaphorical _big red button_, that life sign is going to stay a – also metaphorical – popsicle. Now then, any other complaints?"

Everyone stared at him. "So – at least for the moment – there's no danger, right?" Ronon clarified.

McKay sighed affectedly. "There _is_ no danger, not as long as the life pod is still activated."

Teyla was the first to relax her aggressive stance. "Very well. Now we must decide whether or not to wake this 'life sign,'" she said. When Ronon and Sheppard immediately tensed and lifted their guns again, she let out a little huff of frustration. "I am not meaning to imply we _should _wake this person up. I am merely wishing to say it is something we need to _consider_."

"Well, I vote _no_," Ronon said emphatically.

Sheppard nodded. "I'll back you up on that one."

"I back up Teyla," Elizabeth said. No one had noticed that she'd crept back into the ship, and now stood slightly behind and to the left of Sheppard. "I am rather intrigued by this entire situation."

John rolled his eyes. "You and your infernal archeology!" he said, exasperated. "Everything is an adventure; you see nothing as a danger to you!"

Weir glowered stubbornly. "I _know_ there's danger!" she said. "But the mere _fact_ that this is here – not to mention the _string_ of other _coincidences_ that have occurred recently – tells me that something important is going on here! And that—" she thrust a finger at the life pod "—and _that_—" she pointed to the as-yet unidentified object "—are important to _Ancestors_ know what! You can't just think about the danger, you can't just think about the treasures you might find, you _have_ to give serious consideration to the knowledge and importance of whatever is happening here! I don't pretend to know what it is, and I don't think I'll understand it when and if we find out what is going on, but I know it's _important_. And, at this point, _that_ is what is important!" She stood, chest heaving, eyes impassioned, pinning them all one-by-one with a wild gaze.

McKay cleared his throat. "I call neutrality," he said in a small voice.

No one paid him any mind. "Fine," Sheppard said through his teeth. "Say we stop to consider the crazy, stupid, and careless. _Then_ what do we do?"

Elizabeth calmly shifted her gaze to Ronon. "You set your weapon to _stun_, and we wait to see what happens next."

Everyone exchanged slightly surprised glances. "That makes sense," Sheppard marveled.

Weir sighed and rolled her eyes. "I _do_ have my moments of brilliance," she muttered, just high enough for her fellow woman's ears.

Teyla rolled her lips to keep from laughing. She really liked this woman.

"Okay. . ." Sheppard drawled. "So – are we going to do this? Is this the plan?"

She shrugged. "Sure, if you want. It _was_ only a suggestion, you know."

McKay glanced at the life pod. "Well, I need to know if we're going to do _something_."

"Who knows how long that thing has been there," Sheppard said. "I'm sure another hour won't affect it. We need to look at _all_ the angles of this thing before we make a decision."

"If only we knew _what_ it was," Elizabeth said. "I mean – it could be a human, an Ancient, or any other number of species we know nothing about."

Rodney stared at the control panel, expression bleak. "I can't tell you that _decisively_," he said. "But, I'm guessing since this _is_ an Ancient ship, and this _is_ an Ancient life pod, the life sign inside _is_ an Ancient. Or, at the least, human."

"Friendly or not?" Ronon shot back.

McKay narrowed his eyes. "You know perfectly well I can't tell that!" he fumed.

"That's our point," John replied. "It doesn't matter if it's a human, Ancient, or Bob's cousin. If he – okay, or she – is threatening, we're all going to regret waking it up. We have to have a plan."

"Sitting here _debating_ this all day isn't going to get us very far very fast," McKay argued. "We need to make a decision."

"We should figure out what this is, first," Teyla said. She motioned to the other device taking up the majority of space in the rear compartment. "This may give us a clue to who – or what – is in that life pod."

"Good idea," McKay said grudgingly. He scooted over to it, one eye looking out for a control panel while the other kept a close watch on his data pad. "If I could just find a panel. . ."

Sheppard casually walked by, resting a hand on the device briefly. It emitted a soft, cheerful hum, and a panel on the side slid back to reveal glowing crystals.

Rodney snapped his head up to glare at the colonel. "Will you _stop_ doing that, Mr. I-have-the-almighty-gene?!" he snapped. "I have it too, you know!"

John shrugged innocently. "Then why weren't you doing something?"

"Because I didn't want to set off something dangerous – oh, say like something that would blow us all off the face of this _planet_!" he snapped. "Just because you— Oh, oh, well, would you look at that?"

"What?" Teyla, Ronon, and Elizabeth shifted a little closer, trying to get better looks. "What is it?"

McKay sank back on his heels, one hand rubbing absently at his neck. "Wow. I mean – this is _wow_."

"What?!" Sheppard demanded.

"Don't make me wring it out of you," Ronon threatened.

Rodney glared as if daring the Satedan to do so. "Well, the control panel is telling my data pad that this particular device uses quite a bit of power when activated. Which tells me that this thing is something very big and very important."

"Get on with it!" Ronon growled.

"I'm getting to it! Give me a chance. In all my years of work in my very distinguished field, I have found only three things that require this much power to work."

"And. . .?" Elizabeth prompted.

"One is Atlantis, the Water City. As you all know – or should, at least – it has a hyper drive system, which means it is not _just_ a city, but a flying city. The second, to a slightly smaller degree, is the Ancients' ships, which are able to traverse great distances at a rather magnificent rate of speed." He paused, looking thoughtful.

"What's the third?" Sheppard asked.

"Because it is obvious this device is neither a city's hyper drive nor a ship of the Ancestors," Teyla added.

"Ah, but it _is_ Ancient," Rodney said. "And _that_, my dear children, is just my point." He patted the side of the device. "This little baby is a time travel machine."

Disbelieving glances were exchanged as silence settled inside the ship. It was obvious no one _really_ believed him.

"No, really!" McKay said, his enthusiasm only slightly diminished. "Come on, people! Is it so hard to believe? And it makes _sense!_ You said it yourselves, there's a lot of weird stuff going on – and a time travel machine would _definitely_ count as weird!"

"Is it still operational?" Teyla asked. A time travel device was so much _past_ weird as to be unbelievable, but if it still _worked_. . .

"I don't know. But I don't suggest hitting buttons to find out. We don't want to wind up – well, who knows where." McKay went back to his data pad.

It was a good point, Teyla conceded. "How long will it take?"

"I'm not sure."

Ronon inched his way around the device to stand next to her. Lowering his head so his lips were right next to her ear, he whispered: "I don't like this."

Teyla took a moment to steady her breathing – what a time for Ronon's warm breath across her ear to affect her! It was almost unsettling, the way he could do that at the most inconvenient times. "I believe this is another one of those 'destiny' things we agreed to be worried about."

His hand, warm and reassuring, grasped hers. "Whatever happens—" He hesitated.

She linked her fingers with his and squeezed, smiling though she knew he couldn't see it. "We are in this together."

"Together." Ronon lifted his head, managing to brush his lips casually against the side of her head on the way up.

Teyla rolled her lips together to hide another smile. That warm feeling was back in her stomach: at that moment, she knew she could face whatever was coming after her and Ronon, so long as he was with her the whole way.

Sheppard awkwardly cleared his throat, eyes averted. Apparently he'd noticed the couple's intimate moment. "So – McKay – anything yet?"

"Okay – that's it! Out, out, all of you!" The scientist pointed to the door. "I can't work with all you annoying people nagging at me like a bunch of three-year-olds. Out, out! Leave me alone! Let me work!"

Sufficiently scolded now, Teyla, Ronon, Sheppard, and Weir left the ship. They lingered close to the hatch, though, not wanting to leave him completely alone. Ancient or not, strange coincidence or not, bad things could still happen. There was always the remote chance the jumper was rigged to be a trap.

Time passed slowly. Eventually Weir went to join the group still working on clearing the front end of the jumper. Sheppard sat at the top of the hatch, legs crossed, gun resting casually across his chest. Ronon and Teyla moved a little distance away, finding a small niche of solitude to settle in. But their conversation could be nothing but serious.

"It's going to happen soon. I can feel it." Ronon very carefully avoided looking at her, gaze turned up toward the sky.

Teyla looked down, tracing patterns in the dirt with a finger. "I thought _I_ was the one with visions," she said softly. Brushing her hand across the dirt to wipe away her aimless doodles, she peeked at him from the corner of her eye and smiled.

Ronon's long arm settled over her shoulders to hug her to his side. "That's true." Resting his chin atop her head, he sighed tiredly. "We're going to be okay."

Teyla knew he was still thinking about his mother's letter. She wished she could have the same confidence. "Who can really know?" she whispered.

His warm hand rubbed up and down her arm. "C'mon, Teyla," he said. "There's a time-travel device in that ship – or didn't you hear McKay? Someone had to have started that story, written the legacy of our destiny – or whatever you want to call it. Is it really so farfetched to believe that what my mother said in her letter is true? If time travel exists, it makes sense that _someone_ checked out the end of the story, to make sure there was a happily-ever-after at the end."

Despite his confident words, she heard the ghost of pain that seeped into his voice at the end. Nothing was infallible – they'd learned that the hard way. "Happily-ever-after," she said, trying to make it seem more _certain_.

"Happily-ever-after," he reaffirmed. Then a rueful smile twitched at one corner of his lips. "Funny," he said. "For some reason, I never pictured _us_ with one of those."

Teyla realized she hadn't, either. Not in the traditional, fairy-tale sense, anyway. "Hopefully we can go for happy, at least."

Ronon's smile turned genuine. "Happy. Why not?" His hand paused on her shoulder to squeeze gently. "You make me happy, you know that?"

Another small pang went through her, a sliver of guilt for making things so hard on him at first. But now. . . "You make me happy, too."

"Ronon! Teyla!" Sheppard's voice floated toward them on the breeze. "Come here, quickly!"

Ronon was on his feet in a second, hand extended to pull her up, too. They took off running, meeting Weir at the bottom of the ramp. "What's going on?" Dex demanded.

"Looks like the time for debate is over. McKay activated the life pod."

_-To Be Continued-_


	32. Illydia

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 32/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 31-

_Illydia_

* * *

With a hiss of displaced air, the lid of the life-pod began to open just as Ronon, Teyla, Sheppard, and Weir reentered the ship. McKay was slowly backing away from the pod, eyes wide and hands up in an innocent gesture. "I didn't mean to do it!" he cried. "I was just – and then it – and now it's—" Sputtering to a stop, he looked back at the life pod.

Ronon quickly elbowed his way in front of the others, weapon trained on the opening life pod. He caught a glimpse of silver hair, a smudge of black, before the figure sat bolt upright. Eyes wide with confusion and disorientation, the figure swept them all with a wild gaze.

"Wraith!" Teyla hissed from behind Ronon.

Dex was already shifting position for the best shot, finger curling around the trigger of his weapon. _It's a _Queen! he thought in shock.

"Wait!" The female Wraith froze, one hand up in a placating gesture. "Please, don't shoot! I promise, I can explain everything – just please don't shoot me!" Her gold eyes, split down the middle with a slit pupil, shifted to stare at each of them in turn. "Please, I promise, I will _not_ harm you."

"Teyla?" He slid a quick look in her direction.

She stepped up next to him, a curious look on her face. Carefully reaching out, she placed her hand on the barrel of his weapon and gently pushed it down. "It is fine," she said. "This woman is telling the truth."

"Woman?" Ronon nearly choked. "She's a—"

The Wraith shifted into a crouch, then carefully stepped out of the pod. "Please, I promise I am not how I look. Just let me explain, and I promise it will all make sense."

Sheppard stepped up on the other side of Teyla, posture distinctly defensive. "You have two minutes. Start talking."

She didn't waste time. "My name is Illydia. I was created by an Ancient – an illicit experiment, if you will – to be a weapon against the Wraith the other Ancients created. Though there were problems – I could not defeat them on my own, there were other pieces to this puzzle." Her eyes shifted between Ronon and Teyla. "You two, if I am not mistaken."

Ronon bared his gritted teeth, feeling Teyla's hand firmly squeeze his arm. Every instinct in him was screaming _Kill it, kill it, KILL IT!_ But he couldn't. Things were beginning to make scary sense.

"The Ancient used the time travel device to go forward in time, to try to find the other two pieces. When he came back, he told me what he had discovered and brought this ship – and me – here. He put me to sleep in the pod, and told me to wait until the other two parts of the weapon woke me. He said it would then be time." Illydia swallowed hard, gaze focused on the weapons trained on her. "I am here to help you," she whispered. "Please."

"What's your diet?" Sheppard demanded. "Fifty seconds."

"I was created to be a superhuman, with the Wraith's abilities to heal. I-I am like them in some ways, but I do not take human life. I try to be like the rest of you." She held up her right hand. The feeding slit in her palm looked wrong, more like a shadow instead of a deadly weapon in and of itself. "I have never taken a human life."

Ronon looked at her. As much as he hated to admit it, she didn't look like the other Wraith he'd seen. Her painfully thin body couldn't necessarily be attributed to her choice in diet – after all, she'd been locked up in a life pod for who knew how long, if her story was right – but there was a gentleness in her eyes, a lack of maliciousness, that was more humanlike than the rest of her.

"She's right," Teyla said again. "She will not hurt us. She is telling the truth." She looked up at Ronon, and he saw the truth shining in her eyes. Grudgingly, he lowered his weapon, though he decided he wouldn't trust Illydia. Not yet, anyway.

Across the cramped space, Illydia let out a soft breath and leaned back against the pod. "Thank you," she said sincerely. She turned her head to look at the pod controls, and her eyes widened. "So many years," she whispered. "It feels like so little time. . ."

"How long have you been in there?" asked Elizabeth, who had crept up to stand next to Sheppard.

Illydia looked at her, lips carefully closed over her teeth as she smiled. "Longer than I want to admit." She stood again, brushing a loose strand of silver hair behind her ear in an oddly human gesture. "My friend – he told me I had to go in the pod not just because I was a part of the weapon against the Wraith, but because – I was the only one who could be sustained in the pod without aging." This time her smile was rueful, and showed a little of her razor sharp teeth. "I would imagine everyone I know is dead by now."

Uneasy silence settled over the ship for a while.

Then Teyla cleared her throat and took a step forward. "I am Teyla Emmagan," she said. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Illydia smiled, her expression benevolent and oddly kind. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

Teyla turned her body slightly. "This is Ronon Dex," she said, motioning. "Over there is Dr. Rodney McKay. And here is Colonel John Sheppard, and Dr. Elizabeth Weir."

Halfheartedly, everyone else greeted Illydia. She nodded politely at each, giving them a close-lipped smile. "It is nice to meet you all. Thank you for getting me out of there." She motioned to the pod.

"That was me," Rodney said.

Illydia bowed a little. "Thank you, then, Dr. McKay."

He smiled awkwardly and nodded. "Not a problem," he muttered.

Turning, Illydia faced the rest of them. "There is _so_ much to tell you," she said. "So much to do. . ." Reaching behind her, she pulled her braided silver hair over her shoulder and tugged on it nervously. "I do not know where to begin!"

"What else can there be?!" McKay squeaked.

Illydia looked at him solemnly. "We are a weapon," she said simply. "It is now time to destroy the Wraith."

_-To Be Continued-_


	33. Explanations

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 33/40

**

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**

-Chapter 32-

_Explanations_

* * *

The evacuation of the campsite began before the sun rose. Chaos ratcheted up the tension another level as everyone rushed around trying to knock down tents and pack up supplies. As the last signs of civilization disappeared from the planet, Ronon and Teyla especially wondered if it was the last time they'd ever get to see _people_ again.

Sheppard and Weir had wound up in an argument so loud it was hard to miss. He insisted she go back to Atlantis; she insisted on _staying_ with him and the others. Did he honestly think she wanted to miss the most important event history ever had or ever _would_ record? That had effectively silenced John.

Ronon and Teyla listened quietly. They had no choice – they _had_ to stay, as did Sheppard, McKay, and Illydia. But Weir – she stayed of her own choice. It was nice, in a guilty sort of way, having someone along who was there because she wanted to be; not because she _had_ to be.

As the last few people abandoned the campsite, taking the rest of civilization with them, Ronon led the way back to the ship, where Illydia awaited them. She had not helped with evacuating camp – the fewer people who saw her Wraithlike features, the better.

"Is everyone gone?" She looked up from where she'd been sitting in the doorway of the Jumper, re-braiding her long silver hair.

"The last few people just left." Teyla sat down next to Illydia, arms casually crossed over her knees. Ronon silently moved to lean against the side of the jumper next to the ramp, inches from Illydia and Teyla, hand ready on his weapon. Just in case.

A bitter smile twisted the Wraith female's thin lips. "Everywhere I go, people run from me in fear. Perhaps my long rest had more advantages than I knew. At least as long as I was in that pod, no one knew I existed." She rested her chin on her upraised knee, her expression full of an ancient pain that made her look the most human Ronon had seen yet. "And here I am, running people off again. Some things never change, no matter _how_ many years go by."

Elizabeth crouched on the other side of Illydia, gently patting her shoulder. "We won't run away," she said.

This time Illydia's smile was tired. "Thank you," she said. "I have been waiting. . ." Trailing off, she slid a glance in Ronon's direction. It was more a flicker of her eyes, but Ronon saw it and felt just a _little_ guilty. _She's been waiting for us to run away, or kill her._ He'd had no desire for the former, but the latter had been burning at him since the first moment he'd glimpsed her silver hair and lightly tattooed face. It was hard for him to ignore pure gut instinct in the face of someone experience called his enemy.

"'Scuse me." McKay worked his way around the women and back into the ship. "Much work to do here, people."

Rodney's words seemed to break Illydia's mood. A wry expression on her face, she straightened her shoulders and rubbed her hands on her faded purple silk pants. They looked like something from a bygone era – like something the Ancients would have worn three or four thousand years ago.

"How much do you all know about the destruction of the Wraith?" she asked. She seemed neither uncomfortable nor familiar in saying this, as if they were having casual conversation over dinner.

Ronon still thought of it as The Impossible Event – and, now that they were so close to time, it was beginning to scare him.

"Just what has been passed down through lore over the years," Teyla said.

Illydia nodded thoughtfully. "What are your powers?" she asked Ronon and Teyla.

"Healing," Ronon responded. "But only Teyla."

"Clairvoyance," Teyla said. "I can see Ronon's future, so I can change it." She smiled sheepishly at the rest of the group. "That is why I knew we could trust Illydia," she told them. "I did not see her attacking Ronon – at least not in the near future."

"That's not all you can do," Ronon reminded her softly.

Teyla looked away from Illydia. "I can get into Wraith minds," she said softly. "I can – destroy them from the inside." She looked horrified, like she was afraid she'd offended the Wraith sitting next to her.

Illydia, however, looked excited. "This is good," she said. "I wasn't expecting this much. This is good news, indeed!"

Everyone swapped confused looks. "What are you talking about?" Sheppard demanded.

Tapping her long fingers against her lips, Illydia looked at them with half-veiled eyes. "Hmm," she said. "The Ancient who created me, then put me in stasis, only knew that the Wraith would be destroyed, and the separate pieces of the weapon. He didn't know what each person's gifts were, except mine." Another wry smile showed her teeth. "That was more a fluke than anything else. When I was created, he didn't expect me to be so – powerful."

Ronon twitched, hand reflexively tightening on the grip of his gun. _Powerful_ and _Wraith_ – even one who appeared to be a saint in every way – didn't belong in the same context, as far as he was concerned.

Illydia shook her head. "Personally, I hadn't expected either of you to be so _close_ to what we needed, though I'm not sure why." Her slender shoulders lifted and dropped in a casual shrug. "We _are_ supposed to destroy the Wraith, after all."

"You keep _saying_ that!" Rodney snarked from inside the ship. "I don't suppose you'd care to give any _details_ while you're at it, instead of being Miss Enigmatic!"

Tugging on her braid again, Illydia chuckled. "I was getting to that part soon, Dr. McKay," she said, suddenly in high spirits. "Now then. First we need to get all the Wraith in one place – here. My creator discovered that _this_ was the area in which every Wraith lifesigns in existence vanished – that is why he placed me in the lifepod, and brought the ship here."

Ronon wondered if Illydia included herself in the vanishing of the Wraith. But he wasn't about to ask!

She was silent for a while, prompting Sheppard to speak. "That's all you know?" he said dubiously.

Illydia flashed her sharp teeth at him in a smile. "Patience, Colonel, patience. I just discovered Ronon and Teyla's talents – it will take some time to put everything together."

McKay sighed loudly. Ronon would bet the scientist had rolled his eyes, too. "What's this 'everything'?" he asked.

Those disconcerting greenish-gold eyes focused on him. "A weapon has parts, no matter how big or small it is. You, Teyla, and I are all parts. We must do this correctly, or the Wraith will not be destroyed. Instead, _we_ will be nothing more than memories. This is meant to be a self-fulfilling prophecy," she said softly. "That is why we are all here. That is why the lore was passed down, why everything that has happened to you has been geared toward bringing you here. Time travel is very risky, and there is always a chance that my creator could have destroyed the very delicate timeline by traveling into the future. That is why all this is happening."

Ronon felt his jaw clench. He _refused_ to think _everything_ that had happened to him and Teyla had been constructed by some rogue Ancient and his pet sucker. He and Teyla alone had forged the bonds of their friendship, and now their love. He wouldn't allow himself to believe differently.

From the look on Teyla's face, she was thinking along the same lines. "Please let us know when you have figured it out," she said softly.

Illydia smiled thinly. "I will."

**-Jumper-**

"How long does it _take_?" Sheppard grumbled. "That girl's been gone for almost four hours."

Darkness had returned to the planet by now, forcing them to set up lights so Rodney could keep working. Though there was no longer a threat from the giant birds, Teyla still felt nervous. She could not explain the feeling – nor had she had an accompanying vision – all she knew was she was _really_ _nervous._

"Shh." Teyla motioned to her lap. Whether Ronon had wanted to admit it or not (and, apparently he hadn't), he was still tired from healing her. Too much had happened since then for him to get proper rest. He'd fallen asleep about three hours after Illydia left, and Teyla had pulled his head to rest on her lap so he wouldn't have to lie right on the hard floor. "He is asleep, and he needs that rest."

Elizabeth, sitting close to one of the lights with a number of books scattered around her, looked up. "You should get some rest too, Teyla," she said. "I mean – who knows when you may have a chance again? Especially if – when – Illydia figures everything out."

Something dark and scary stirred in the pit of Teyla's stomach. Perhaps that explained her nerves – she was afraid that, before long, she and Ronon would be getting _too_ much rest. No matter what Michaela Dex's letter said, there was no guarantee they could do anything toward their destiny. There was always the chance the Wraith would destroy them first. . . "I am not tired yet," she said. It was only a half-truth.

Weir narrowed her eyes suspiciously but returned to her books.

"Argh." McKay thumped the heel of his hand against the edge of one of the consoles running along the ceiling at the back of the jumper. "How come these things don't come with instruction manuals?" he muttered. "Even something as simple as a video system comes with one, when a three-year-old could work it without one. But something complicated, like a jumper? Nada."

Sheppard arched one eyebrow, leaning forward from where he'd been lounging in one of the back jump seats in the cockpit of the ship. "C'mon, McKay!" he called. "I thought you didn't _believe_ in instruction manuals!"

Rodney hissed a few breaths through his teeth. "That's before I was trying to unhook a life pod and time travel device!" he growled. "You wanna come back here and try it, Ace?"

"Nah." Sheppard tucked his hands behind his head and lounged back in his seat. "But you have fun."

The next sound was McKay's head loudly thumping against the wall of the jumper.

Teyla smiled, only a small part of her amused at her shipmates' antics. The majority of her focus was split between Ronon and Illydia. Even fast asleep now, worry lines creased the Satedan's forehead, drawing deep lines under his eyes and around his mouth. She smoothed her fingers across his forehead and over his hair, hoping to soothe away the lines. Unconsciously, her mouth turned downward into a frown. Their having to share their destiny, their _power_, with a Wraith was making him uncomfortable. She wasn't entirely accustomed to the idea herself, but at least she had visions – or lack thereof – to assure her. Ronon had nothing but experience and instinct to guide him, both of which were screaming _enemy_. She saw it in his eyes when he looked (balefully) at Illydia.

Eventually exhaustion began to stubbornly tug at her eyelids. She yawned widely, then leaned her head back against the seat behind her. Falling into a half-doze, she dimly kept track of what was happening around her.

A thrashing sound in the brush snapped her to awareness, at the same time waking Ronon. He rolled upward into a crouch in a movement so quick she didn't notice he'd done it until he was up. Weapon drawn, his suddenly-alert green eyes scanned the local area.

Weir scooted away from the doorway, her own eyes scanning the region.

Teyla shifted into a position to mirror Ronon's, her own weapon in her hand. _Illydia?_ she wondered.

"Don't shoot!" a familiar voice cried. Moments later Illydia burst into the range of the lights, the florescent glare glittering in her eyes and across her silver hair.

Ronon, still crouching in the mouth of the jumper, scanned the jungle behind her. "Are you being chased?" he demanded.

"No!" Illydia braced one hand against the edge of the jumper, doubling over to plant her other hand against her knees. She breathed hard for a minute, her entire body trembling.

Reluctantly, those holding weapons holstered them. The unsettling feeling in Teyla's stomach increased tenfold. _It is the moment of truth. . ._

Illydia looked up to meet Ronon and Teyla's steady gazes. "I know what we need to do," she whispered.

_-To Be Continued-_


	34. Apprehensions

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 34/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 33-

_Apprehensions_

* * *

"She's been sleeping for hours." Ronon cast a nervous gaze out the open hatch of the jumper. "Maybe I should. . ." He trailed off, realizing no one else was paying him any mind. Everyone else had their own duties to attend to, in readiness of the Wraith's arrival.

Everyone but him and poor Dr. Weir, who had nothing to do but peruse her thickly-bound textbooks while she waited for something "exciting" to happen. "I believe we should wait," she told Ronon. "You need to preserve your energy for – later."

_Later_. Ronon was _really_ starting to hate that word. _Later_ was roaring down on them with terrifying expediency, making him want to dig in his heels and slow down time. Teyla's sleeping for _this long_ worried him.

Someone knelt next to him. "She will be fine," Illydia said calmly. "She is very tired from combining her mental powers with mine to contact every Wraith Queen in this galaxy, so we could lure them here." Another sardonic twist of her lips made Ronon shudder at _this_ Queen's sharp, discolored teeth. "She will wake soon. Of this I have no doubt."

"And after that?" Ronon asked. He didn't want to make a habit of having conversations with Wraith, but he knew the success of this mission, and Teyla's survival, hinged on this one's actions, on her words. He _had_ to play nice, for his soulmate's sake.

Illydia regarded him with solemn concern for a moment before responding. "And then, we will _all_ be put to the test." She rose with lithe grace, then went to join McKay in the cockpit of the ship.

Ronon returned to his idle stroking of Teyla's soft hair while she slept. The sheer exhaustion on her face when she'd stumbled into the jumper and collapsed on the side bench worried him. Though that tiredness had worn off over her hours of slumber, her face was marked from a different weariness – this brought on by the burden of what she was supposed to do in just a few too-short hours.

Illydia, possessing more mental powers than ordinary Queens, was able to contact every Wraith ship in the galaxy, drawing them here _en masse_ with the lure of a previously hidden feeding ground. Teyla's mental powers had been used to boost Illydia's, helping her get the word out farther and faster.

Teyla's negativity began to wear at Ronon's firm resolve. No matter what assurances his mother's letter had offered, there was no guarantee everything would work out. The story the Ancestors had passed down were as remote and unreal as fairy tales until he'd found out they were _true_, and referring to him and Teyla. And, like fairy tales, he was afraid the happily-ever-after at the end was just another story, another fabrication of reality.

The brutal truth of the matter was that he could have only a few more hours left with Teyla.

**-Jumper-**

Teyla jerked awake. Head spinning, stomach roiling, she squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to alleviate the ringing in her ears. As the painful aftereffects of her vision slowly faded to memory, she furiously rubbed her closed eyes with the heels of her hands. Burning tears squeezed from behind her lids, trailing down her cheeks to drip into her hair.

"Bad dream, c'mon, just a bad dream," assured a familiar voice. Large, gentle hands closed around her wrists and tugged. "Come on, it's okay."

Stubbornly, Teyla pulled her hands away and rubbed at her eyes again, this time to get rid of her tears. "Don't touch me," she said, hovering on the edge of a sob.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ronon withdraw a little, pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't – I mean—"

"Give me a moment." Teyla sat up, raking her hand through her (messy, she discovered) hair. Drawing in deep, measured breaths, she allowed her racing heartbeat to return to normal. _The purpose of my visions is to _change_ the future,_ she told herself. _If it was meant to be, I had the vision to make sure it is _not_ to be._ With another brisk shake of her head, she forced herself to believe that. "Sorry."

Ronon eyed her warily. "'S okay," he said. "So – did you have another vision?"

"Yes." Teyla, reluctant to be more forthcoming, rested her forehead on her upraised knees.

Seeming to understand her action, Ronon gently rubbed his hand up and down her forearm. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"You don't believe that," Ronon said. "Aren't all your visions about me?"

Teyla felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. "Be quiet before I hit you," she said, half in jest.

Ronon shifted to sit behind her. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his head against her shoulder and sighed. "Feel better?"

Willingly leaning back against him, she nodded. "I apologize for sleeping so long. I did not mean to."

"You needed it." Ronon leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Notice anything missing?"

Teyla turned to look. "Oh! The time-travel device is gone."

Ronon nodded. "Yep. McKay took it out while you were asleep. Come to find out it was broken, anyway. But he left the life pod in, though he didn't say why."

_Because we may need it,_ Teyla thought grimly. Convulsively swallowing _that_, she smiled wanly. "I think Dr. McKay is slightly – eccentric – but his hunches usually have merit," she said.

Ronon went still and silent behind her. After a beat too long, he said softly: "I hope his hunch is wrong on this one."

Remembering her vision, Teyla repressed a shudder. "As do I."

"What was your vision, Teyla?" Ronon asked quietly.

"Does it matter? I have visions so I can change what they warn me of," she said.

Warm air blew past her ear as Ronon sighed heavily. "I suppose I can guess what it was."

"Promise me," she said suddenly.

"Promise you what?" Ronon asked. "I won't promise you anything until I know what it is I'm agreeing to."

Teyla smiled sarcastically, but only because she knew Ronon couldn't see. "You do not trust me?"

"Your visions are serious business," he replied.

Threading her fingers through his, she debated whether or not to tell him about her vision. Like she'd just told him, she was going to make sure it changed anyway. . . But, in this case, she needed him to cooperate to make sure it changed. She _had_ to tell him. "If – and I am not saying it _will_ come to this – it looks like I am – well – injured _very_ badly—"

Ronon stiffened again. "What have you been keeping from me?" he demanded. "What did Illydia tell you?"

Teyla cringed. When Illydia had pulled her aside to explain her part of the plan (or the best she could figure it would be), she'd hoped Ronon wouldn't notice. She'd taken careful measures to make sure Ronon was busy talking to Sheppard and Weir before going off with Illydia, but apparently she hadn't taken enough care. "Nothing concrete," she said vaguely. "But we are going to be doing very – dangerous things. There are risks."

"I _know_ there are risks," he said dangerously.

"You should not have asked," Teyla said mournfully.

Ronon drew in a sharp breath to respond, but didn't have a chance.

McKay appeared in the doorway, data pad clutched to his chest, eyes wide and mouth open. "The Wraith!" he said ominously. "They're here!"

_-To Be Continued-_


	35. Destiny

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 35/40

**

* * *

**

-Chapter 34-

_Destiny_

* * *

"We _must_ wait until most of the ships have arrived," Illydia announced. "As long as we are in this ship, and it is cloaked, we are invisible to them."

"Um – won't they leave when they find out there's 'nobody' on this planet?" Rodney asked.

Illydia smiled slightly. "It is all in the phrasing," she said enigmatically. "And, in the timing." She turned back to Teyla, who sat next to her on the floor of the ship.

Ronon nervously flexed his hand open and closed. He wished he had some power like Teyla's – something mental, something he could use to kill a few Wraith himself. He didn't like sitting here watching her (okay, her _and_ Illydia) do all the work. How could the Wraith Queen be so _calm_? Ships were coming, the Wraith were arriving! Shouldn't they be doing something _now_, instead of waiting till it was too late?

In the cockpit, Sheppard drummed a staccato pattern with his fingers against the pilot's console. He was ready to fly the ship anywhere, should Illydia and Teyla need to be closer to do what it was they needed to do. (To be truthful, Ronon wasn't sure he totally understood what it was they were going to do.) Weir sat next to him in the co-pilot's seat, tense but ready.

Ronon turned his gaze to McKay, who sat on the opposite end of the single bench seat left in the back. His data pad was hooked to several overhead panels via four long, clear leads, and he tinkered around on the screen with his stylus. The expression of concentration on his face made it clear he was lost in another world.

Sighing, Ronon leaned his head back against the wall and turned his gaze to Teyla. He wanted to say so much to her, just in case – just _because_. Her impassioned words to him earlier made him all the more determined to do whatever needed to be done to keep her safe – even if it meant her most recent vision _did_ come true. It wouldn't be easy, he knew, because while he was trying to keep her safe, she'd be trying to keep him from going down the same path he did in her vision.

"It is almost time," he heard Illydia murmur.

Teyla met his eyes briefly, then turned back to the Wraith. "Thank you," she whispered. Rising, she came to sit next to Ronon, giving Rodney a look that clearly told him to vacate the area. Clearing his throat, McKay mumbled something about the cockpit and left.

"Teyla—" he started at the same moment as "Ronon, I—" Teyla began.

Ducking his head, he hid a smile. "You first."

Sighing, Teyla tucked her hair behind her ear. "You have not promised me," she said. "I suppose I can understand why. After all, I was not exactly _forthcoming_ with you about my vision."

Ronon smiled wryly in agreement. He caught her hand as she reached out to him, cradling it in both of his. The icy knot in his stomach, which had been growing all day, grew colder. Far above them, a fleet of Wraith ships like nothing that had been seen for thousands of years was amassing, and he was beyond terrified that this might be the last time he'd spend with Teyla. "Just be _careful_." He couldn't admit what he was _really_ thinking – he was selfish enough to want to let every Wraith out there live if it meant Teyla would be safe.

She must have read it in his eyes, for she turned her gaze away, firmly pressing her lips together. "This must be done," she whispered firmly.

"That's what scares me." Ronon sighed. "I know this might not be the time for this, but _when_ this is over, will you—" He rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. Usually he had no trouble voicing himself to Teyla, but suddenly the atmosphere was tense, uneasy, and his mind and mouth did not want to work together. But he forced his way onward. "I was wondering if you'd like to come – live on Sateda with me?" His eyes begged her, asking the question he couldn't seem to voice. _Will you be more than my soulmate? Will you be my wife?_

Teyla blinked once, twice, thrice at him. Her mouth opened, then closed, and her cheeks flushed. Tearing her hand from his, she leaned forward, grabbed his face, and pulled him into a kiss. When at last she pulled away, she looked at him with dark, beautiful eyes and an unbearably sweet smile. "You are right," she whispered, "this is not the time. But—" she leaned forward to kiss him again "—I am glad you asked."

Ronon swallowed hard, looking hopefully at her. _Was that a "yes"?_ he wondered.

"Yes," Teyla affirmed. For the first time in almost two days, she looked _happy_. Watching her expression brighten, Ronon had hope this whole crazy thing _might_ work, after all.

From her meditative position a few feet away, Illydia opened her eyes and calmly announced: "It is time."

Ronon resisted the urge to clutch Teyla to him and not let go. His fingers relaxed, allowing her to leave him for what could be the last time.

**-Jumper-**

It felt a little like being lost in a sea of faces, looking for one in particular among a crowd of thousands – no, _millions_. Teyla sifted through the mass of minds, each dripping with deeper levels of evil and malicious hunger, as she searched for one in particular. While Illydia had told her it would be one of the most powerful minds in the group, she'd also warned the Athosian that it might be hard to find among the multitude of other minds.

Occasionally she encountered a familiar mind, and immediately slipped away. Illydia, too, was searching, seeking an even more powerful mind than Teyla. When their paths would cross, they would quickly slip away from each other, trying to touch the minds of their victims as little as possible. They did not need the Wraith to be alerted of their presence – or their plans – before it was time. . .

There were so _many_ minds! Teyla's two experiences seemed far too few compared to what she faced now. Panic began to swell into her throat, but she swallowed it back as a familiar presence flickered a movement to her left. Calming her ragged breathing, she returned to her search. She _could_ do this; she _had_ to do this! Failure was _not_ an option, not with so much – _Ronon_ – at risk!

Another ghostly pass through a Wraith mind revealed nothing. Frustrated, she moved on, searching, seeking. . .

The black wall slammed into her from seemingly nowhere. Shockwaves of pain rippled through her mind from the blow, and she instantly recoiled with a sharp, surprised gasp.

Ronon was there instantly, arms around her. "Teyla?"

She carefully pushed him away. "I am fine." Curious, she warily crept her way back toward that single mind, prodding at its mental barrier to see if it would give. Illydia had warned her the mind she was looking for might be hard to penetrate – so this could be the one! Even though she hadn't expected it to be _that _easy, she hadn't expected such a sharp blow to her mind, either.

Stubbornly – and perhaps a little recklessly – she continued to try to push her way in. The more it refused to give, the harder she tried to _make_ it give. It wasn't until the mental barrier crashed inward, taking her with it, that she realized her mistake.

An overwhelmingly powerful mind forced its way into hers, bringing with it a multitude of intense hatred and malicious intent. Carefully-selected memories snatched her attention, bringing to the forefront the memory of uncountable deaths – including a particularly horrifying one she recognized as Tyre's – to distract her from her goal.

Another choked gasp left her, and she raised her hands to her head to clutch fistfuls of her hair. She screamed, writhing in pain as the malevolent pleasure of the Wraith's many feedings invaded her. She struggled to pull free from the powerful Wraith's grip, trying to regain her mind and sanity. But the wicked mind, finding gratification in her pain, burrowed deeper into her psyche, clawing for a foothold.

Teyla felt her control – the very essence of _herself_ – slipping from her grasp. She was becoming a monster! _No!_ she screamed, but there was no one but the enemy to hear.

It was then the other presence crashed into her mind. Immediately the evil one flinched back, reacting to the double-barreled attack from two minds fighting against it.

She dimly recognized her sudden savior. _Ronon, no!_ She tried to push him out of her mind, to keep him from helping her. Unbidden, her vision briefly flashed before her eyes, revealing itself to Ronon and the enemy.

Ronon didn't draw back from what she'd unwittingly revealed to him. It seemed only to make him try harder to help her cast out her unwanted guest. The enemy, too, seemed to be fueled onward by her vision. It – he! – redoubled his attack, viciously burrowing further into Teyla's mind, and Ronon's through hers.

Two roars, equal in volume and viciousness, echoed through her already aching brain. Flinching, Teyla unconsciously retreated into the corners of her mind, making room for the ferocious alpha males that had made her brain a battleground. When she was able to regain her wits, she realized what she'd done. Horrified, she threw herself into the fight, helping Ronon to beat back the Wraith mind, slowly but surely, which had tried to overpower her and take over her body.

For a brief moment, she was able to touch the deepest, darkest region of her enemy's mind. Shocked, she realized she _knew_ this mind: had, in fact, tried to penetrate it once before. This was the mind of the Wraith who had invaded camp to come after Ronon, but who had instead tried to murder her.

Ronon was immediately privy to this information. His presence quivered once with an awe-inspiring yet terrifying fury she hadn't known a human capable of possessing, and with renewed fervor he assisted her in driving the Wraith from her mind at last.

Another unconscious gasp left her lungs as she barricaded her mind against any further attacks. _Ronon!_ She reached out to his presence, now much closer since she'd driven the other from her mind. _Ronon!_

_I'm fine!_ He sounded exhausted. _I'm fine._ He withdrew from her mind with scary sluggishness, weakly but determinedly fending her off when she tried to hold on to him. Eventually she gave up trying to recall him to her mind, or get into his. Reluctantly – and with a _lot_ more caution – she went back to her search, making sure to stay away from the presence she could still feel lurking out there, searching for her.

Only a few moments after she felt Illydia find her target, Teyla found hers. Careful to keep her mind guarded, she slipped into the Wraith Queen's mind and hijacked one of the most powerful enemies in the galaxy.

_-To Be Continued-_


	36. Life and Death pt 2

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 36/40

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-Chapter 35-

_Life and Death_

* * *

It was a truly strange feeling, seeing someone else's hands move when Teyla commanded them to. She could feel both her own body and that of the Wraith Queen she'd hijacked, and it took her a while to get used to moving one without the other. But, once she did, she was able to move the Queen purposefully through the ship to the target area.

Teyla had to keep her mind focused solely on the job, because while she was trying to keep control of the Wraith, the Queen was trying to regain control of her body. She fought back against the mind that had invaded hers – if Teyla's concentration slipped even a little, it could be disastrous to her – let alone the mission!

Through the Queen's eyes, she watched the walls of the ship and its other occupants pass by as she moved through it. Through the Wraith's senses she could feel the hatred, the malice, the hunger, they were all feeling. She shuddered, her stomach rolling once or twice at the sensation. No matter what happened to her, she was going to make sure this mission succeeded. The Wraith_ had_ to be exterminated!

When at last she and the Queen, as one, reached Teyla's destination within the ship, she thoughtfully examined the controls before her. She knew a certain amount of their technology was controlled mentally, but the one she was looking for wasn't. The Queen read her intentions and tried to hide her thoughts, but Teyla saw the control in her mind. _Ahh._ She reached for the control, stomach tied in excited knots.

_No, you insolent human!_ The Queen fought back ferociously, briefly distracting Teyla from her goal. For a moment she stayed completely still, fighting an internal battle with the Queen for control of the Wraith body. _I can feel how tired you are, human,_ the Queen whispered.

Teyla's and the Queen's hands curled into fists. _Not tired enough to give up!_ Teyla cried. She focused all her energy on forcing the Wraith to the back of her mind again, just long enough so she could press the target button.

A deep rumble built in the bowels of the ship, then a loud explosion sounded outside. Teyla grinned in triumph as the Wraith Queen howled in rage and defeat. The ship shuddered violently again, and this time alarms wailed.

Another exultant laugh built in Teyla's chest. She pushed the Queen away and withdrew into her own mind, opening her eyes at the same moment that Illydia opened hers.

"We did it!" Teyla cried. She swapped tired grins with Illydia, who had one hand against the bench seat next to her to hold herself steady. Teyla felt the exhaustion crowd into her mind and body, and leaned against the life pod next to her.

"This is amazing!" Sheppard yelled from the front of the ship. "Wow!" His eyes were glued to the LED readout transposed over the front windscreen of the jumper. "The ships already out of hyperspace are fighting with each other!"

"And the ones that are just dropping out are joining in the fight, too!" Weir exulted.

Teyla and Illydia swapped another grin. "Are you okay?" the kind Queen questioned.

Teyla nodded and smiled wanly. "I'm just a little tired." She rubbed her forehead with her hand. "I have a bit of a headache. The Queen – she did not want to relinquish control of her body. She fought me every step of the way." She glanced up as Rodney squeezed between her and Illydia to check another of the overhead consoles. Teyla closed her eyes and sighed, then got to thinking. Her eyes snapped open, and she sat up, looking around. "Where is Ronon?" She remembered feeling how tired he was, how slowly he withdrew from her mind after he helped her drive out the Wraith who'd tricked her. "Where is he?" Panic rose into her throat.

Elizabeth appeared next to her, crouching to rest her hand on Teyla's shoulder. "He's in the life pod," she said gently. "He is still alive. But we had to put him in there after he helped you."

Horrified, Teyla turned to face the pod at her back, gently resting her hands against its cold metallic surface. Her vision once more flashed through her mind, and she felt tears prickle her eyes. _Ronon, you stubborn man!_ she cried inwardly. _Why did you do that?_

Illydia knelt on her other side, left hand resting gently next to Teyla's on the life pod. "That could be you," she said softly. "It seems impossible that you survived a Wraith's invading your mind unscathed."

Teyla blinked her eyes, wishing the pod had a glass top so she could see him. "What did he do?" she wondered.

Illydia avoided her gaze. "His destiny," she said. "You should have been severely brain damaged – or even dead – after that. He must have helped you drive the Wraith out while at the same time healing any damage it was inflicting on your mind. . ." She trailed off.

Fury boiled inside her. "He should not have done that."

Elizabeth replaced her hand on Teyla's shoulder. "You're important," Weir told her. "He _wanted_ to, he—"

"I had a vision!" Teyla said. "I _saw_ this, and I told him not to do it!" She wanted to scream, to cry, to throw things. But she couldn't. Her fear and sadness was too crippling, too overwhelming.

"Uh – guys?" Sheppard called from the cockpit.

Illydia and Elizabeth withdrew. Teyla stayed by the life pod a moment more, resting her forehead against it before she stood and went to the front of the ship to join everyone else.

McKay pushed past them to look at the HUD. "Oh no," he said. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."

"What?" Teyla demanded.

"Some of the Wraith have started turning weapons fire to the surface," Rodney reported. "Most of the ships are still destroying themselves, but if we don't move right now, they're going to find us eventually, cloaked or not. And when I say _move_, I mean evacuate the planet!"

"But the ship, will it fit through the cave?" Elizabeth asked worriedly.

Sheppard slid a gaze in her direction, worried. "It has to," he said. "The life pod is hooked up to the jumper's power, and it has to stay plugged in for Ronon's sake."

Teyla clenched her hands into fists, feeling numb inside. "You should all go," she whispered. "I will stay here with him."

Everyone immediately vetoed it. "No," Sheppard said determinedly. "We've all come this far, and you and Ronon even farther! We've all heard the legends, and you've told us about Ronon's mother's letter. You deserve to be happy after what you both just went through, and by the Ancestors, I'm going to make it happen!" He spun back to the pilot's controls.

McKay squeaked. "But – but – the jumper! It might be too big to fit through the cave!"

The jumper smoothly lifted off as everyone scattered to find seats. "Then I'll _make_ it fit!"

_-To Be Continued-_


	37. Floodgates

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 37/40

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* * *

**

-Chapter 36-

_Floodgates_

* * *

"Everyone, hang on back there!" Sheppard yelled over his shoulder.

Teyla sank down on the floor between the head of the life pod and the wall separating the rear bay from the cockpit. She braced one hand against the floor and the other against the pod, reluctant to lose contact with Ronon – even if there was a cold hunk of metal between him and her. The walls dulled the sounds of great explosions outside, each one making Teyla cringe. Occasionally one would come close enough to rock the cloaked ship, and she was terrified that, at any moment, a shot would find its target. Then the jumper would be destroyed, and all their chances would be forever lost.

Across from her, Illydia smiled thinly. Her long fingers grasped the seat, holding herself steady on the bench. "It will be okay," she said.

Teyla couldn't smile back. "I am the one with the clairvoyance," she whispered. "And I can not foresee. . ." She knew she wouldn't be able to see the others' futures, or even her own, but the fact that she couldn't see Ronon's terrified her. She didn't know what to think.

Illydia grunted when the jumper jerked violently. "You must not cease to believe," she said. "Right now Ronon needs you to believe in him."

She leaned against the pod, splaying her fingers across its surface even as the jumper rocked again. "I want to," she whispered. "So badly."

"Then do so," Illydia said firmly.

"We're coming up on the cave!" Sheppard called from the cockpit. "I'm going to try to take us in – be prepared for a jolt!" In a softer voice, Teyla heard him tell Weir: "Dial the Ring! We may not have a second chance at this."

Teyla tucked herself a little tighter into the corner and closed her eyes. "We _will_ survive, we _will_ survive, we _WILL_ survive," she muttered to herself. From her fetal position, she awaited the horrifying jerk – and the terrible explosion sure to follow.

Instead, she heard three sharp gasps from the cockpit. Her eyes sprang open, and she leaned forward to see what was going on.

Beyond the windshield she could see the yawning mouth of the cave. But something was wrong with it; its shape was slightly different from normal. More oval than perfectly round. . . Squinting, Teyla leaned forward a little more, then fell back in surprise with a gasp of her own when she realized what was happening as the jumper advanced into the cave.

In the flickering light of the Ring, Teyla saw the cave walls writhing and twisting as if alive. As the little ship inched its way farther and father into the cave, closer to the Ring, the walls were adjusting their shape to accommodate the unusually-shaped jumper.

"Uh-oh," Sheppard said presently. Leaning in close to the controls, he activated the radio. "Mayday, mayday," he cried. "Atlantis, this is Colonel Sheppard. We are coming in hot: Repeat, we are coming in _hot_! Have a medical team on standby!"

"What—?" Teyla began.

Illydia glanced at her. "There is a Wraith Dart following us," she said grimly. "It is directly behind us, making its way through the cave before the walls can retake their previous form." She pointed to the HUD.

Teyla swallowed hard, hoping there were no more ships behind_ that_. "Will we make it?"

"We will," the Queen responded. "Faith, Teyla. You must have faith, remember."

She was having a little bit of trouble with that concept at the moment, but Teyla swallowed back her arguments and returned to her fetal position in the corner, her back braced against Ronon's life pod. "Hang on, my betrothed," she whispered. "We _will_ make it."

The Ring swallowed the jumper then, and for a moment she free-fell through space, a jumbled prayer paused on her lips. The rest of it tumbled free the moment they were on Atlantis, her words mingling with Weir and McKay's screamed: "Pull up, _pull up_!" and Sheppard's, "_Shield_!"

Teyla covered her ears as the horrendous screech of metal on metal sounded close by. The jumper jolted roughly, nearly shaking her loose. She moaned, expecting at any moment to feel the jumper come apart around her. The sound faded a little, so slowly she didn't notice it at first. Then, with a soft thud, they stopped moving.

She dared to raise her head and open her eyes, meeting Illydia's stunned gaze from across the thin walkway. "What happened?" the Queen asked in a hoarse voice.

McKay squeaked as Sheppard burst out: "That was _cool_!"

Weir appeared in the doorway, seeming to be quite shaken. "I believe that is the closest call. . ." she said wonderingly.

The rear hatch began to open as Sheppard appeared behind Elizabeth's shoulder. "It was awesome!" he almost yelled. "We came through the Ring, the Dart right behind us! I called for the shield, but one of the Ancients up in the control room manually shut down the Ring, and the Dart was cut in half!"

Teyla blinked rapidly. "There's a Dart in the city?" she questioned. She didn't remember the room that housed the Ring being that _big_.

"Half a Dart," John corrected. "The rest is stuck in the Ring, I guess."

"It'll cease to exist the next time we dial out," McKay whispered shakily. "Just half the Dart – I wonder if the Wraith is still alive. . ."

Illydia rubbed her forehead. "Not for long," she said grimly. "He tried to activate his self-destruct, but the security teams shot him. He will die of his wounds shortly."

At that moment the sound of gurney wheels rattling up the jumper's ramp drew everyone's attention in that direction. "What's goin' on?" Beckett demanded.

Teyla, relieved to see the kindly, trustworthy doctor again, scrambled to her feet. "The pod," she said, resting her hands atop it. "Ronon is in there – he is. . ." She trailed off.

"He may require medical attention," Illydia stated calmly.

Carson gently steered her out of the way as McKay pressed buttons on the pod to open the lid. The team Beckett had brought with him commenced to ready equipment, just in case. Teyla didn't know the names of over half of the machines, nor their functions, but she had faith in Carson and his team. If anyone could save Ronon, it would be Carson Beckett.

Teyla, shuffled to the back of the suddenly over-crowded jumper, failed to see the next sequence of events. It was not until Beckett and his medical team had vanished, emptying the jumper a little, that she saw the open and empty life pod and the worried looks on everyone else's faces. "What?" she whispered.

McKay awkwardly patted her shoulder. "He'll be fine," he said, his words sounding faintly mechanical to her anxious ears.

Sheppard offered her a wan smile. "It can't be that bad," he said, trying for reassurance. "I've known him for years – he's a tough guy."

Illydia quietly withdrew, a thoughtful expression on her face. Teyla hardly noticed. "What happened?" she begged.

McKay, Sheppard, and Weir exchanged uneasy glances. "Tell me!" Teyla demanded.

Elizabeth stepped forward to touch her arm gently. "He coded the moment Rodney brought him out of stasis," she said. "He wasn't breathing, and his heart stopped."

Teyla felt the tears beginning to burn at the back of her eyes.

"Wait!" Sheppard exclaimed. "There's more," he assured her.

"Beckett got him back just as they reached the bottom of the ramp," Elizabeth said. "But he's in critical condition. He's being taken straight to the emergency section of the infirmary, to see if they can diagnose what exactly is wrong with him."

Hands curling into fists, Teyla numbly ground her teeth. "I know what is wrong with him," she said. "He is too – too _blasted_ chivalrous and selfless! He should never have helped me! I _saw_ this happen! But I could not stop it!" Frustrated, she shoved past the others and ran out of the jumper, blindly making her way through the dizzying massiveness of the ship bay of Atlantis.

"Wait!" Sheppard caught her up on the stairs. "You don't know where you're going," he said softly. "I'll take you to the infirmary."

Teyla allowed herself to be led through the light, airy halls of Atlantis, Weir and McKay silently trailing behind her and Sheppard. But she was blind to the beauty around her, her mind was so focused on Ronon's plight. She knew he was still alive – she'd feel it deep inside her if he wasn't. But beyond that, she didn't know how he was faring.

One of the doctors under Beckett's command checked the four for injuries and declared them all healthy. After that, all they could do was wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Teyla sat in a chair slightly removed from the other three, legs curled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her knees. She needed a shower; to eat; to drink; to sleep. But she didn't dare leave the waiting area, or even close her eyes. She felt to do so would be giving up on Ronon, and she couldn't do that. Hours passed in a maddeningly eternal monotony, colored only by the whispers of John, Elizabeth, and Rodney. None of them tried to draw her into a conversation, knowing they would get no response. She was too fixated on Ronon. Briefly, in the moments between wanting to cry herself into oblivion or scream and throw something, Teyla wondered where Illydia had gone. After she'd slipped out of the jumper, the Athosian had lost track of the kindly Queen.

When at last the doors to the infirmary swished open, Teyla thought she was dreaming. She'd been drifting in and out of a dazed state for quite a while, and thought this was another of her daydreams.

But when Beckett came to kneel before her, kind blue eyes wide with sympathy and sadness, she knew she wasn't dreaming. Her gut tightened. The floodgates of her mind opened and gushed a deluge of images into her mind – another vision of Ronon's future. Her eyes filled with tears.

Carson rested a gentle hand on her knee. "I'm sorry, lass," he whispered. "There's nothin' I can do for him."

_-To Be Continued-_


	38. Resurgence

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 38/40

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* * *

**

-Chapter 37-

_Resurgence_

* * *

Teyla had been in a handful of infirmaries over the course of her relatively short life, and even fewer still had been technologically blessed. After Carson left her alone, she stood in the doorway of the isolation room for a moment, staring at the various machines to keep her gaze from going straight to the bed. _All this technology,_ she thought, _and yet they can do _nothing_ for Ronon?_

At last she moved across the room to the bed, keeping her eyes turned down to the floor until she got there. She drew in a deep breath, dimly registering the sound of the door closing behind her. When she'd managed to draw a little courage to herself, she lifted her gaze.

Ronon seemed to be asleep. For a brief moment she was reminded of the one time she'd woken up next to him on their paradise planet, how relaxed he was then compared to how relaxed he was now. She didn't like this relaxed – it was too forced. Unconsciousness had brought this look to him, and she didn't _like_ it. If not for the life support Carson had him on, she knew his relaxed expression would be set forever in stone.

A sudden chill, completely internal, made her shiver. Her knees went out from under her, and she vaguely registered a chair catching her as she went down. _Dr. Beckett is so kind. . ._ she thought dimly. Then she remembered her most recent vision, of hands she knew to be Carson's drawing a white sheet over Ronon's face. Another shiver of horror shook her whole body.

_There must be _something_!_ Teyla thought savagely. _There must be something_ someone_ can do! This cannot be the end!_ Absently she reached out to draw one of Ronon's large hands into hers. Hardly thinking about what she was doing, she leaned her forehead against his arm and concentrated. She tried to think like Ronon, to get the same sensations he felt to come to her. In the brief moments they'd shared minds while they'd fought off the Wraith, she'd seen everything in his mind. She knew exactly what to do – all she had to do was get it to happen inside her! She could fix this! She _had_ to fix this!

The only things that welled up inside her were frustration and tears. The Ancestors had chosen to bless (curse?) her with the wrong gift – instead of healing, she'd received precognition that would now, undoubtedly, be her undoing. No matter how much she cast her mind into the future, how far she reached, how hard she searched, the same image of that horrid sheet being pulled over Ronon's white face came to her again and again.

She wanted to scream. Her throat, too choked with tears, wouldn't let her. So she let her tears flow, as she inwardly screamed in pain and agony. Charin had told her long ago that Teyla was a survivor, that everything happened for a reason and Teyla would make it no matter what. She'd sincerely believed the old woman at the time, but now Teyla didn't _want_ to be a survivor. She didn't want her life to come at the too-high price of Ronon's sacrifice.

"We are supposed to be married," Teyla said to Ronon. "You _promised_." Her voice faltered. "You promised to show me your world, that you would love me forever as I love you forever! What am I supposed to do now? We defeated the Wraith, but what is the celebration in victory if something far more precious has been lost?" She shakily traced the familiar contours of his face with her fingers, lingering on his temple for a moment before going on to stroke his tangled hair. "Why did you do that?"

As she'd expected, her question went unanswered. Defeated, she rested her head on the mattress next to their joined hands and closed her eyes. More tears dripped down her face and onto the blanket. "I never really hated you from the beginning," she said. "I could _never_ hate you. I just thought you were a little forward – you kept doing all these things, and I did not know if I could trust you. I have only ever been hurt by loving someone. . ." Trailing off, she closed her eyes. "It would appear my fortune has not improved." But she couldn't stop loving him. Even if this _was_ the end, if there was no hope left, she could never make herself stop loving Ronon Dex.

_There is no brain damage,_ Teyla thought to herself. _Ronon's brain is untouched. And yet here he is. . ._ Ronon had shouldered too much of the damage that the Wraith had been attempting to inflict on her. Though somehow – miraculously – his brain had remained undamaged, the harm had been rerouted to other parts of his body. His vital organs were, essentially, refusing to work and would soon shut down completely. It made no sense to Teyla. All she could do was furiously blame the Ancestors for allowing this to happen to such a selfless man.

The doors behind her softly swooshed open. Teyla sat bolt upright, ashamedly swiping at her tears with her free hand before turning to face whoever had entered.

Illydia hovered in the doorway, an apologetic smile on her lips. "I'm so sorry to disturb you," she said softly.

"It is fine." Teyla twisted a little in her seat to face the Queen more comfortably. "Is something wrong?"

Illydia hesitated, then lowered her gaze and nodded. "I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but Dr. Beckett needs you in the morgue," she said. "He wants you to look at the Wraith. Something it said – well, I'll let him explain it to you when you get there."

Teyla's stomach twisted at the thought of leaving Ronon when these could be her last few hours with him, but she obediently stood. Carefully resting his hand on the bed again, she leaned forward and brushed his lips with a kiss. "If you can hear me, my love, I will be right back." She went to join Illydia in the doorway.

The Queen bit her lip, her grey eyes sparkling. "I will stay with him, if you like," she offered shyly. "I – sense you would not like to leave him alone."

Placing her hands on the taller woman's shoulders, Teyla briefly rested her forehead against Illydia's in an Athosian gesture of thankfulness and respect. "Thank you, Illydia," she said softly. "I will try to come back soon."

Illydia nodded and smiled, the motion sweetly innocent despite her teeth. "I promise to take good care of him while you are gone," she promised. After giving Teyla directions on how to get to the morgue, she advanced into the room as Teyla left.

Teyla wrapped her arms around herself as she entered the chilly morgue. "Dr. Beckett?" she called.

The kind man turned from where he was hovering over a figure half-veiled by a sheet. "Ah, lass!" he said. "I'm horribly sorry for calling you here now, with. . ." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable. "But this Wraith said your name right before he died. I dun' know how it's possible, but I thought he looked vaguely familiar, and called you here to see if he looked familiar to you, too."

Teyla rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms as she came to stand next to Beckett. For a moment she stared blankly at the Wraith, then her eyes widened as she recognized the shorter hair, the tattoo pattern on his face, and most of all the expression frozen on his face by death. "Oh Ancestors," she whispered.

Carson nodded. "Ay, I thought so. It's the Wraith that came into camp and tried to kill you."

"And hit you over the head," Teyla said absently. She continued to look into the Wraith's face, fury welling up into her belly. "I wish he were not dead yet," she said between her teeth.

Beckett looked at her, eyes wide with surprise. "Lass!" he ejaculated, shocked.

Teyla's hands curled into fists. "That is the _monster_ that caused Ronon's injuries!" she hissed. "I wish he were not dead so I could kill him myself!" Her voice broke.

Fate really _did_ have a cruel sense of humor.

"Aw, lass, shh," Carson said. He gently pulled her into a hug and patted her back, murmuring soft words in her ear. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called ye in here. . ."

"No, I am glad you did." Teyla leaned back and wiped away her tears, giving the doctor a thankful smile. "At least now I know for _certain_ sure that he is dead. Otherwise – I would never have known, and that would have bothered me greatly."

Carson patted her shoulder. "I'd best let ye get back to Ronon," he said. "Again, lass, I'm _so_ very sorry for callin' you away from him. I feel horrible."

"Please do not," she begged him. "It is – fine." After giving Beckett's hand a sisterly squeeze, she left the room to hurry back to Ronon's isolation area. The closer she got, the more she hurried her steps. What if she'd already missed Ronon's last few moments? She'd never forgive herself. . .

The doors opened. Teyla stepped into the room, mouth open to thank Illydia for staying with Ronon while she'd gone to see Beckett. . .

Illydia looked up, her eyes wide when she saw Teyla. The covers were pushed down to Ronon's waist, the top of his infirmary pajamas ripped from the neck almost down to the bottom hem. Illydia's right hand rested atop his chest, the tip of her middle finger pressed to the base of Ronon's exposed throat.

"What are you _doing_?" Teyla cried. Betrayal and fury washed through her as she ran across the room, already drawing her knife from its sheath at her waist. "You _betrayer_!"

"Wait!" Illydia pulled her hand from Ronon's chest and held both her hands up, quickly backing away from him. "Please, I promise you, Teyla, it's not what it looks like! Please!" Her back hit the wall, and she slumped down it, her left hand going to the floor to hold her up. "Please, I was trying to help him," she whispered.

"By making his death come quickly?" Teyla asked scornfully. "How could you? I trusted you, I believed you! We both did!" She was careful to keep her body between Illydia and Ronon, her knife ready to be used should the Wraith try to get to him again.

Illydia leaned her head back against the wall. "I promise I was not trying to hurt him. . ." she whispered tiredly.

"_Mi nanga_. . ." The moan came from behind her.

Teyla spun, knife still clutched in her hand. "Ronon?!"

Gazing at her from half-veiled green eyes, he propped himself on one elbow and reached out a hand to rest on her arm. "You're okay," he said, relieved.

"_I_?" Teyla almost squeaked. "But you – and she – and—!" She spun back to Illydia. "What did you _do_?"

Illydia looked up briefly to offer a shaky smile. "The Wraith do not like to admit it, but we _do_ have the ability to heal," she whispered. "I used some of my life to repair the damage to his internal organs, so he will not perish."

"But—" The world spun and tilted dizzily around her. How was this even _possible_?

The Queen chuckled dryly. "Face it, I can spare a little," she said tiredly. "I will be fine in a few hours. I must hibernate, to regain my strength. . ." She trailed off, eyes closing as she reached up to tap a previously unnoticed device in her ear twice. Then she lay down, curling up into a fetal position right there on the floor.

Hurried footsteps approached from in the hall. Teyla spun back to Ronon, her knife falling from her senseless hand. "Ronon?"

He cupped her face in his hands and smiled. "I think we're going to be okay now, Teyla – _mi nanga_, my betrothed."

Teyla leaned into his chest as the med team swarmed around Illydia. She could believe him now.

_-To Be Continued-_


	39. Fairy Tale

Please see the first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 39/40

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-Chapter 38-

_Fairy Tale_

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"Is this seat taken, ma'am?"

Teyla looked up to smile at Ronon, who grinned back as he slid into the seat across from hers at one of the tables in Atlantis's spacious cafeteria. "It is good to see you out and about again."

Ronon shrugged. "Beckett was keeping me more for himself than me," he replied. "There's nothing wrong with me – any more, at least. The doc just wanted to make sure I wasn't going to explode, or do something weird." He made a face. "Ugh. I get out of the infirmary, and what's the first meal I get to eat in the cafeteria? Meatloaf. I _hate_ meatloaf."

Teyla chuckled. "You poor, tortured soul."

He smiled unashamedly at her. "So, have you heard? How's Illydia doing?" he asked seriously.

"I spoke with Dr. Beckett earlier this morning. He expects her to come out of her hibernation sometime tonight, or early tomorrow morning." Teyla playfully slapped Ronon's fingers as he tried to sneak the last bit of her roll off her tray. "Stop that."

Ronon looked at her from under his lashes, offering her a wounded expression as he captured her hand and threaded their fingers together. "There we go," he said, pleased with himself.

Teyla willingly relaxed her hand into his grasp. "You are incorrigible."

"You keep saying that." Ronon took a drink of water. "So Illydia's going to be okay?"

"Dr. Beckett seems to think so. He's never actually _had_ an experience with a hibernating Wraith before, of course, so he can't be sure." Teyla tapped the tines of her fork against the side of her salad dish thoughtfully. "I owe her a _lot_."

"We both do," Ronon agreed. His thumb brushed across her palm, sending goose bumps along the back of her hand and up her arm. "I love you."

Teyla felt her insides turn to mush. "I love you too."

Ronon bobbed his fork at her. "So, I was thinking – how'd you like to leave for Sateda in the next couple of days? I was thinking you'd probably want some time to get used to the place before – well, you know." He grinned.

Another happy laugh swelled into her throat and burst free of her lips. "Is it anything like here?" she asked.

"Well – it's pretty big, but maybe not _as_ big. And we aren't as technologically advanced. And I, at least, don't live on or near an ocean." Ronon smiled crookedly, squeezing her hand. "I might be a little biased, but I like it there." He looked down at his plate. "I sold my house when I left Sateda to find you. But I still have the ownership papers for my mother's house. We can stay there until I can find us another place."

"Where do you want to have the wedding?" Teyla asked him.

Ronon looked surprised. "I thought you'd want to have it on New Athos. Was I wrong to assume—?"

"No." Teyla tucked her hair behind her ear. "I very much appreciate your thoughtful gesture. But – I was thinking – would you like to have it here on Atlantis? Perhaps on the mainland? You really have not been to New Athos that much, and we have spent so much time here. . ."

Another of Ronon's crooked, lazy smiles tugged at his lips. "We could have the wedding on the beach," he said. "Then we can book the honeymoon suite at the Royale Lantia."

Teyla propped her chin on the palm of her free hand, picturing the idyllic scene with a dreamy smile on her face. "The perfect wedding," she murmured. When she looked at Ronon, she saw him smiling at her and looked down with a blush. "What?"

"It's nice to see you happy," he said truthfully. "It feels like it's been forever since I've seen your face light up like that." Ronon lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles, unheeding of anyone who might be watching them in the very public cafeteria. "Whatever, wherever, doesn't matter. As long as you're happy with it, I'm happy with it, too."

Grasping his hand in both of hers, she shook it slightly. "I do not want you to _not_ have a say in _our_ wedding," she protested. "This is supposed to be _our_ day, not just mine!"

Ronon gazed at her seriously. "You've already agreed to marry me," he said. "What more could I _possibly_ ask for?"

Teyla rolled her eyes away from his. "Have you heard the big news?" she asked him to change the subject.

Cocking his head to the side, he gave her a look of curiosity. "Apparently not. What?"

"The Ancestors monitored the Wraith ships' progress on their long-range sensors while they were fighting," Teyla announced. "They dispatched three of their larger warships to 'clean up the mess,' as Dr. McKay phrased it. Not all the ships destroyed themselves in the battle, but all of them had some kind of damage. So the Ancestors were going to finish what we started."

"Hmm," Ronon said enigmatically. "Nice of them to wait."

Teyla set down her fork. "It has always been that way," she said in a low voice. "They do not want to 'interfere.'"

Ronon swept his gaze around the room. "Or help." His fingers tightened around hers.

"Regardless, the Wraith are all but extinct now. The only one left has proven her worth. . . But where will she go?" Teyla knew Illydia's fear of people. Would she spend the rest of her life on Atlantis, by herself, among people who couldn't care less about her? That didn't seem fair.

An expression of mirroring sadness colored Ronon's face. "I wish there were something _we_ could do for her." He sighed and propped his chin in his hand. "Like it or not, I owe her a _lot_." He chuckled wryly. "Who'd have thought I'd wind up actually _trusting_ a Wraith?"

_Me._ Teyla swallowed back the word. "There must be something we can do."

"I just hope she'll accept our help."

**-Atlantis-**

"Oh my – Teyla, come in, please." Illydia stepped back from the doorway of her temporary quarters.

She stepped past her into the room. "Dr. Beckett told me you'd woken early this morning, and you were assigned quarters. How are you feeling?"

Illydia motioned Teyla to a chair, then sat in the one next to her. "Fine," she said with a smile. "As I said, I have plenty of life to spare. How is Ronon?" She looked concerned.

"He is fine." Teyla allowed her lips to curl into a smile. "At the moment he is getting ready to return to Sateda. He has a few matters of business to take care of there before we. . ." She trailed off, her smile widening into a grin.

Illydia reached over to squeeze Teyla's hand. "I am so _happy_ for both of you," she said, true pleasure in her voice. "How could I not? It is like you were made for each other."

She had the same thought every day. "Listen, Illydia – there's something I'd like to talk to you about."

The Queen blinked rapidly, concern on her features. "Yes?" she said uncertainly.

"What are your plans? Now that you no longer have to live in a life-pod, waiting for us – what are you going to do?"

Illydia let out a soft chuckle. "I have been considering it quite a bit, actually. I know what I am – and I know what a lot of other people _think_ I am, based on how I look. This galaxy is finally free of the Wraith, and who am I to flaunt it in the peoples' faces? Here I am, a Wraith, one of the hated."

Teyla clutched Illydia's hand. "But you are not _like_ them!" she protested. "You are _good_! You deserve a life!"

She smiled, her good humor hard to beat down. "Thank you, Teyla. You don't know how much that means to me. But. . ." She trailed off, leaning back in her chair as she turned her head toward the balcony doors, open to the ocean breeze. ". . ._But_, it is not fair to the people who have lived under the enslavement of the Wraith for far too long. They should not have to see me, knowing what I am."

"It is not fair to _you_ to have to live the rest of your life in solitude!" Teyla argued. "Surely those in Atlantis, on the continent—! Hardly any of them even know what a Wraith _looks_ like!"

Illydia sighed. "Still, it would not be fair. The Wraith have been successfully eradicated."

"_You_ had a very large part in that!" Teyla protested. "You deserve to live however you wish – you should not have to keep sacrificing parts of yourself!"

"I give what I have freely. Perhaps I want to make up for what the Wraith have done to countless generations of people, for all the slaughters and the destruction. But however I live, I do it because I wish. Nothing more." Illydia's many years of wisdom, pain, and sacrifice were evident in her eyes as she looked toward the balcony again. "I know someday there is a chance. That is enough for me."

That stopped Teyla cold in her tracks. "'Chance'?" she repeated.

Illydia smiled. "Dr. Beckett has been working on a – serum. He says it is no where near ready to be applied in the field. In fact, when the Wraith were destroyed, he was sure he would have no need of it. But then I came along. . . I will help him perfect it. Then I will take it, and we will see what happens."

"What—?"

"I can be human. I live now knowing there is a chance I could lose the battle to my Wraith side. But with Dr. Beckett's help, I _could_ be human." Illydia patted Teyla's arm. "As you see, it is not _all_ bad. If I no longer look or even _feel_ like a Wraith, I can have my own life. Eventually." She grinned. "And, maybe someday, I will find my Ronon, hmm?"

Teyla shook her head. Illydia's enthusiasm was almost unbelievable, but contagious. "I am glad that – someday – you will get your life."

Illydia smiled, her expression earnest. "I have plenty of time to wait," she said softly. "Besides, I have waited this long. What's a few more years, if that is what it takes?"

Leaning across the intervening space between their chairs, Teyla hugged Illydia tightly. "Please promise you will come see Ronon and me," she begged.

The Queen's lips were parted in another huge grin, and her eyes sparkled with an unusual shimmer. "If you promise you and Ronon will do the same – of course."

In the end, maybe it _was_ possible to have a happily-ever-after.

_-To Be Concluded-_


	40. Epilogue

Please see first chapter for disclaimer, rating, warnings, pairing, etc.

Part 40/40

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-Epilogue-

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One Month Later

Her entire life had changed on a Saturday night, when one Ronon Dex had come into her tent.

Teyla's life changed again, on another Saturday, when she married Ronon on the Atlantian beach with a small gathering of her closest friends and family around them – including Illydia, who would soon be trying Dr. Beckett's "cure."

The final surprise had come in the form of a letter, hand-delivered to her by Kanaan. He'd waited until after the wedding, catching her in a quiet moment during the celebration that followed. Looking nervous, he'd mumbled a word of congratulations before handing her a single folded sheet of paper and explaining it had been found among Charin's things – after.

She stared at the piece of paper, which lay folded on the nightstand. Her name, written in soft flowing hand across the top, was hyphenated. Like Charin had known. . . _To Teyla Emmagan-Dex._

The letter was short and to the point, but it explained so much she though she'd never know.

_Teyla,_

_I know by this time you are angry at your father. You wondered why he'd never left you a note, never given you the necklace. I must admit fault for part of that. You are a proud woman, Teyla. You do not trust easily. When Ronon Dex entered your life, you did not trust him. I was a witness to that. But I am also a proud witness to watching you grow closer to him. Even though I know I will die before I get to see you pledge to each other, I know for sure that happy day will come. I know you know it now, too._

_Your father never left a note – and I did not write this one until now – because you had to learn to trust Ronon on your own. There are some bonds that must be formed with no outside intervention, and the love between you and Ronon was one of them. A letter can be forged – soulmate love between two hearts cannot. I write this letter with a smile on my lips, having seen for myself that you love him far more than I could ever understand._

_May the Ancestors bless you and Ronon richly, Teyla. I love you both forever._

_Charin_

Teyla blinked back the tears in her eyes. She wondered when Charin had written the letter – why she hadn't mentioned it the last time she'd seen Teyla and Ronon. Perhaps she'd never know that. At least now she understood why her father had never written her a letter like Ronon's. Now she _knew_ – as if she could ever be in doubt _now_ – that her love for Ronon, and his for her, could never be manipulated, or even hinted, into existence.

Rolling over so her back was to the nightstand, Teyla snuggled herself into Ronon's side. Even in sleep, he smiled as he wrapped his arms around her to hug her closer. Nudging Ronon's half of their necklace out of the way with her nose, she smiled at the feel of the cool metal of her half caught between her chest and his side. The two parts of the whole, representations of themselves in a way, would never leave their necks. Just like they'd never leave each other.

Sighing in satisfaction, she rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes. The day – her wedding day! she thought giddily – had been far too exciting for her to sleep now. But she kept her eyes closed anyway, enjoying the rise and fall of Ronon's chest as he breathed, and the rhythmic, _so alive_ drum of his heartbeat beneath her ear. She'd stay like this forever if she could.

Something tickled at the back of her mind, then spread like warm butter to the forefront. She smiled – she was having a vision. A clear one, and for the first time there was no terror therein – only hope.

_An unfamiliar skyline she somehow nevertheless recognized as Sateda hovered in the background, beyond the stretch of the country where she and Ronon had built their new, larger house. It was _theirs_, belonging to them and no one before._

_Teyla sat on stone steps leading up to a spacious back porch, holding a little girl who couldn't be more than two in her lap. Pretty gold-brown curls framed a full face, with striking – and familiar – smiling green eyes. She turned her gaze up, and spotted Ronon jogging across the yard to drop down next to her on the steps, a young boy – four, maybe five at the oldest – perched on his shoulders, little hands clutching her husband's hair for balance._

_Something stirred within her, a combined nudge-tickle-bump. Looking down, she saw the swell of her stomach beneath her loose shirt. She placed the hand not balancing the girl on her belly, feeling the baby kick. A smile curled her lips as three more hands joined hers. She looked around into the smiling faces of her family – happy, healthy, together – _safe_._

"Oh," she said softly. As the feelings of the vision faded away, leaving only the image of her, Ronon, and the children behind, she somehow sensed this was the last vision she'd ever have. But the knowledge didn't bother her; instead, she was deeply grateful they left her with an image of peace, where they'd started with an image of war.

"Teyla?" Ronon's voice, adorably rough with sleep, whispered. His arms tightened around her waist. "You 'kay?"

Teyla turned her face into his chest and grinned so big she just _knew_ her face would split in half. "I am fine," she assured him. "I just had another vision. My last, I think."

Sounding more awake – and quite worried – he asked: "What's going on? What did you see?"

Lifting herself onto her elbows so she could look her husband in the face, Teyla smiled broadly and leaned down a little to kiss him. "Our happily-ever-after."

_**-The End-**_

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_Wow, I can't believe it's actually over! Thank you to all my readers, for coming along with me on this crazy, fun, long ride. And thank you to all my reviewers, for all the support you have given me and my story. Thank you all so very much! -hugs everyone-_

_A quick shameless plug -- the sequel to _Soul Mates_, "Bleeding," is officially up and in progress. Thanks again for everything -- you guys rock!_


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